


The love, lead, and undead.

by Rinusagitora



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Hypersexuality, Major Character Injury, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, this is me projecting my trauma onto Vicky lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinusagitora/pseuds/Rinusagitora
Summary: Vicky has a lot on her plate between robberies and her love for Damien. Even though they're successful, problems from the past and present stand between them.On hiatus.





	1. The bells that toll

**Author's Note:**

> My name is Kogi. I'm new to MonProm. I've been writing Bleach fanfiction for years, but I recently discovered MonProm and just fell in love. I intended this to be Damien/Vicky smut, but it kind of spiralled out of control....

Vicky held his throat and pinned him to his plush mattress as she rode him. Brian, behind her, jabbed Damien’s prostate. Between the lack of air and sexual stimulation, Damien’s eyes were crossed and he was right on the edge of ecstasy. 

\---

When Damien woke up, he reached for Vicky, because his dream was amazing and her hip was flush against his and her butt was great and she smelled like an awesome, fruity perfume that he wanted to bury his nose in. 

He opened his eyes to his arms around his poofy body pillow and he felt stupid and dejected and he kind of wanted to cry.

Instead, Damien made way to the bathroom, where he buried his feelings in his morning routine. He texted Scott about that afternoon's football meet. If he couldn't have Vicky, he could at least check out Brian's ass and daydream about the one party where they drank too much and made out. 

Stan was in the kitchen with a mug full of disgustingly domestic hot chocolate.

"Where's Dad?" Damien asked.

"He’s showering. There's bacon and toast left over for you," Stan replied. "You look like you slept like shit."

"I was having a good dream, and then I woke up and realized it was a dream."

"I'm sorry. That's disappointing. If it helps, I dreamt Lucien helicoptered his dick at the Aquinos."

Damien broke into a grin. "That's a pretty sweet dream," he said. "I'm off now. See you later."

"Have a good day."

On campus, Damien lounged in the library and perused his hundreds of selfies with Vicky and Brian. Brian didn't smile a lot. It was still as gorgeous as Vicky's.

Beyond a bookshelf, Leonard's voice struck his ear like an icepick.

"God, this chick is an ugly, fake whore! She actually got this producer to agree to one of her hot takes on Makido the Giant. I swear. These SJWs are ruining all the good television shows."

Damien was not in the mood to listen to that neckbeard’s drivel, so he hopped over the shelf and landed in front of Leonard.

"Makido is my friend's favorite show, y'know," he snarled with a guttural, fiery edge. Damien grabbed Leonard by his neck and dragged him to the bathroom. Makido was a great excuse to beat out his anxiety.

\---

Vicky loved a lot of boys. Like, a lot. Scott, Brian, Oz, Liam, Blobert, Cal. She loved them all. When they talked to her, the attention went straight to wherever made her feel like she was fucking invincible. It came to be that her infinite source of love focused on Damien as of recent, her most hot-headed classmate and friend, and for more than one week like the rest of her phases of attraction seemed to last.

Of course she gravitated towards him. He was all kinds of crazy like she was: the happy kind of crazy that felt like drums punched her chest, or that first second after she snort a ton of coke.

Damien held Leonard by the back of his head in one of the toilets. As much as Vicky loathed that obnoxious, holier-than-thou, nonsensical neckbeard, and as much as she enjoyed seeing him helplessly gurgle, Damien's heart didn't seem as invested into Leonard's torment as he usually was. No jeers, no curse words, just a lame, dejected sigh. It concerned Vicky.

"You look frustrated," Vicky, loyal captain of the generally disliked naval vessel the S.S. Obvious, remarked. "What's on your mind?"

Damien's eyes were so golden. A poet of ancient Greece would describe them as pure ore. "Nothing," he grumbled. He pulled Leonard out of the can and threw him out of the stall. "Scram, freak. You're no fun anymore.”

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"No. That was a blatant lie. I'm not sure why I did that."

Vicky reminded herself to trust her gut in the future. Things were always as they seemed when it came to Damien. 

"I'm just… love is metal, man. Like, it's pretty badass to trust someone enough to be vulnerable around them.”

"Is… is philosophy making you upset?" she asked.

"No. But there's this girl I really like. Like, I like her more than anyone I have before. I feel like I'm on fire when I'm with her and the second she's out of sight I snuff out. She'll smile and I'll lose my breath. I like her more every day. This morning, and I'll kill you if you fucking laugh at this, but this morning I woke up and I was looking for her because I had a dream we were together. My chest felt like it would collapse when I realized it wasn't real."

Oh.

Vicky's chest felt like it collapsed too. He talked about that woman like Vicky was just one of the guys. Like she hadn't had Damien's back for a year, like she didn't adore all his adventures.

Yet as much as it hurt, Vicky only wanted to make Damien happy. 

"Why haven't you told her yet?"

Damien's head fell into his hands. "'Cause I like this guy too, Vicky, and I want them both. It's gonna break her heart and I’ll lose both of them. This isn’t some kind of passing fancy. This isn’t me wanting a three-way. I adore both of them.”

"There are people like you," Vicky said, people like her who liked lots of boys. She’d stay with him, even if she didn’t like his other partner. “You should give it a shot.”

"I don't think I can. If I can't have them, even as friends, I’m not sure I could take it.”

Vicky held his hands. “Damien, you’re better than this,” she croaked. “You’ve never been so reserved. I hate seeing you like this. Please… tell me how I can help.”

“It’s…” Damien stared, his chest rattled. “I have to go.”

He pushed past Vicky. She collided with the locking mechanism, but she hardly felt it, because her chest hurt so much. Damien didn’t love her, he couldn’t tell her who he loved, he couldn’t even tell her why he couldn’t tell why he refused to tell her.

\---

Oz wasn’t used to the weird couple walk Zoe adored. Not that he didn’t like it, because he did. Zoe fit underneath this shoulder like a puzzle piece and it was so fucking adorable, and she held his hip like it was glued there. But Oz was clumsy, and Fear wanted in on the action so he tripped over their excited bubbling. Zoe thought it was funny, at least.

“Y’know, I need to ask Damien something. Let’s sit with him.” 

“Okay.”

Just before they sat down, Vicky rushed past them with a tray in hand and tears in her eyes. 

“Wow, I’ve never seen Vicky act like this,” Zoe commented. “You guys are friends, right? What’s going on with her?”

Damien snapped his fork in half. “Not your fucking business, you nosy freak.”

“That’s Damien-speak for he does know and it’s probably his fault,” Oz whispered in one of Zoe’s ears.

“Dammit Oz, fuck off! If Vicky didn’t tell you, she sure as hell doesn’t want you knowing.”

“We’re her friends too, though,” Oz retorted. “You’re our friend too.”

Damien grit his teeth. “I fucked up, okay? I like this girl and I can’t tell her, and she tried to help me this morning, but I’m too big of a fucking bitch to let her know it’s her and it’s not her fault that I’m a fucking coward.”

“Oh my goood!” Zoe gasped. “You do like Vicky! I swore you were into Brian, though! What changed? Oh my god, is this a love triangle? Are you stuck between two lovers?”

“Can you fucking act semi normal for once in your motherfucking life!”

Fuck, Zoe was perceptive. “Zoe… let’s be more sensitive about this,” Oz said as Damien beat his head against the table.

“I like them both, okay? And I don’t want to choose, and I don’t want to hurt or lose any of them. I just gonna to keep this to myself.”

“Damien, did you tell Vicky you like her and Brian and you don’t want to choose? Or have you made these decisions on your own?” Oz asked. Mortals and their drama was both fascinating and obnoxious.

“... no.”

“Seriously consider it. You don’t know what she is okay with. Are you content living in safety and security? Or do you want to live vivaciously, even if your partners don’t end up being Brian and Vicky?”

“Okay,” Damien replied. “I will. Thank you.”

\---

The school day wasn’t even halfway over when Vicky decided to go home. Vera's sleek, absurdly shiny limo pulled up to the sidewalk next to her.

"Get in, bitch," Vera said from the interior.

"I'm surprised you didn't poison me," Vicky said as she climbed inside. 

"I’ve come to the conclusion you're more effective as my partner in crime when you're not foaming at the mouth. You look like you need a drink, though. Scotch?"

"Single malt," Vicky replied. "Fill the glass off and keep the bottle out."

"Sweet flaming baby Satan, what's up with you?"

"Damien. He likes another girl and it's not me, and he refuses to tell me who it is, and refuses more tell me why he can't tell me. Since these problems totally matter, I'd very much like to drink away the memory of today."

Vicky grimaced as Vera gave her a look of unbridled disgust. "Sorry, I'll keep it to myself."

"No. That was mostly for Damien." Vera massaged her sinuses. "You people are hopeless. Y'know, if I cared more about social graces, I wouldn't tell you this, but that girl Damien was talking about is you, Vicky. He's just too much of a pussy ass bitch to fess up to it. God knows he buries his feelings under his stupid sense of masculinity."

Vicky wanted to cry. All her work to get into his circle, all her effort to get him to realize how wonderful she was, had paid off.

But why in god’s good name was he so scared to tell her that he liked her? She didn’t care if he liked her and someone else.

Nonetheless, Vicky said, "Thanks. I don't wanna think about this right now, though."

"Why don't we rob a bank then? That always seems to put you in a good mood."

"Somehow I knew you had ulterior motives," Vicky said as she caught a ski mask and sweats Vera threw at her.

\---

Seventeen hours later and about seventeen grand heavier, Vicky returned to campus with more pep in her step.

Part of her felt bad that Vera told her about something as private as Damien's feelings. Surely, there had to be a reason he hadn't told her. But she wanted to put an end to their charade so if Damien refused to tell her about his feelings for her, she would, and if he still refused to tell her, so be it. There were there fish in the sea.

If Vera's information was wrong, though, and Damien didn't return Vicky's feelings, their friendship would suffer. Collateral damage.

Vicky found Damien asleep in the shallow woods behind campus. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Damien, you're gonna kill your back sleeping up there!" He wasn't a fucking puma, or… whatever tree-dwelling cat was more apt for the analog she needed.

Did pumas even sleep in trees?

Damien flew upright upon disruption, and less than gracefully slammed his head into a thick branch above him. He cursed, lost his balance as he braced himself, and fell to the ground. Vicky yelped and ran to check on him.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, Damien. Are you okay?" 

"No. Holy shit, that hurt," Damien groaned. He curled up into a ball and held his forehead. "Fuck, why do I do this shit?"

"Sh-should I get you some ice? God, that's gonna swell like a bitch."

"Ice? Fuck no!" Damien snapped. "God, just… fuck….”

"Let's go to the nurse's office." Vicky reached to help Damien to his feet. He scrambled away like she burned him. 

"I'm fine!" he snapped. Vicky's eyes watered. "Just… stop, okay? Worse has happened!"

Vicky's hands fell into her lap. She was a stupid little girl. "Sorry. I'll… see you around." She picked up her backpack and ran before Damien could reach her.

She tumbled helplessly into the bathroom. She slammed the stall door behind her, dropped her bag (with a very expensive laptop inside) on the linoleum, and she didn't even cover her mouth as she bawled. Vicky gave a whole new meaning to ugly crying. When she cried, the stitched skin on her face scrunched up and she had to push it into place when she finished, she never failed to hyperventilate so her face was always puffy, and whenever she cried, her snot always dripped down her face like her mother was Niagara fucking Falls.

When she heard a knock at her stall, Vicky covered her mouth (as if that would do anything) and hoped they'd pass.

"Bitch, it's me, open up," Vera said from beyond her stall.

Vicky unlocked her stall and let Vera inside.

"Sorry, not at my best right now," Vicky said.

"What the hell is going on? You're crying in here, and Damien reached a new record for amount of people he's beat the shit out of today and it’s only lunchtime. Already get into a lover's quarrel? He’s not telling me shit."

She shook her head. "No. He was sleeping in a tree, and I woke him up, and he hit his head and fell, and he got really mad at me."

Vera's hair bristled. "What a dumbass, cunt-blowing, son of a bitch."

Vicky was pulled to her feet and dragged behind Vera. She only narrowly managed to catch her backpack. Vera ignored Vicky's protests. She wanted to be seen when she fixed her face slippage, and she had to wipe her nose on her sleeve which was fucking gross. They were ignored though, because Vera's rage was palpable. Her snake-hair incessantly hissed and bared their teeth at passersby.

In the cafeteria, Vera unkindly slammed Vicky into a seat across from Damien and Scott. Until Damien saw her, he only half-heartedly picked at his food. When his eyes met her's, though, it felt like Vicky was kicked square in the gut because he dropped his fork and looked like she kicked him instead.

"Oh no, Vicky, what's wrong?" Scott cried. "Are you sad? Will balls help? Balls help me feel better when I’m sad."

The tension of Vera's death stare made Damien sweat visibly. "It’s nothing you need to worry about, Scott. Damien knows what he did," Vera said. "We're gonna sit here until he fixes it."

"Vera, it's fine. Damien and I can work this out."

Scott gasped. If he wasn't so stupid, Vicky would've guessed Scott deliberately rubbed salt in Damien’s wounds. "Oh my God, Damien made you cry? Dude, that's not cool. She's like your best friend. You don't make your friends cry! That’s not what good friends do."

"Scott, just, shut up for a minute!" Damien barked.

"Well, what do you have to say?" Vera said.

Vicky was caught between her loyalty to Damien and her own, awful, vindictive pleasure as Vera ripped him a filthy new asshole. She bashfully sat back and stared back at Damien.

"I'm sorry about this morning. I've been on edge lately. It kind of just boiled over and I took it out on you. That wasn't right. I mean, I don't give a shit about right and wrong, but your feelings… your feelings matter to me."

"And?" Vera said.

Damien's face glowed with… embarrassment, or something along those lines. "I really like you, Vicky. Yesterday, when we were in the bathroom, I was trying to tell you that, but I couldn't get it out. That's kind of why I've been so pent up lately. I keep trying to tell you and I keep chickening out."

Vicky's heart just about popped out of her chest and tap danced for them. Instead, she lunged across the table and squeezed Damien so hard his back cracked.

Damien didn’t seem to mind. He crushed her in his own embrace as he crushed her lips against her. Scott howled with excitement and drew the attention of their classmates. There was applause from their friends. Vicky was embarrassed, but it was buried under the noise of her own giddy. Not even lasagna smeared on her sweater was enough to put a damper on her mood because the only thing that could take her out of that moment would have been wedding bells.


	2. We make a lilac sky together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Vicky and Damien share a night of passion, trouble brews.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter early so here.  
CWs for mentions of death, medical horror, & csa.

Home was supposed to feel cozy and lived-in.

Vicky vaguely remembered her childhood with her mom and sisters. That was home. She remembered her biweekly visitation with her dad too. His home was cold and smelled like dog urine and beer. His car smelled like cold metal, and then it smelled like a gas fire after he wrapped it around a pole. She remembered the smell of her dad's breath as he screamed at her to buckle up, like putrefaction. She remembered what her blood smelled like when her head collided with the dashboard.

Since the accident, she hadn't felt at home. Gary was the man who reanimated Vicky. His lab was hard and cold. He was never really affectionate towards her. Once Gary died of mercury poisoning, his brother Eugene took her in, and that was never home, not after the things he did to her. Even Vicky’s apartment wasn't home.

She wasn't ready to stay in a place so hollow.

"Can you stay the night?" Vicky asked. Damien walked her home after they loitered on campus several hours after the school day ended.

"Yeah. My dads won't mind."

Vicky guided Damien inside and he kicked off his shoes by the door. "This is cute," he complimented.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Booze?"

"Wassail?"

"Is… is that booze?"

Vicky forgot he didn't celebrate Christmas. "I'll get you some whiskey."

"Thanks, babe."

Vicky returned with two glasses of single malt whiskey. When she sat next to Damien, he crossed his legs and gazed upon her. "So, bank robbery. What got you into that?"

"I like being independent. It'd hard juggling school and my social life when I need to pay rent. Robbery is a huge payout every couple of weeks, so I can cover my bills and have plenty extra to play around with," she explained. "Vera is a fantastic partner as well. I wouldn't get half as much as I do without her."

"Are you guys, like, friends? Does Vera even have friends?"

"I feel like she’s my friend," she said. "If we’re asking questions, though, why are you going to a public school? You're the motherfucking prince of Hell. I'm sure there are a plethora of academics at your dads’ disposal that could instruct you better than any of our teachers. You’d probably learn stuff that would be more relevant to ruling over Hell.”

"I wanted to go to school up here. It's not that I feel out of place, but it's refreshing not constantly feeling like people are sucking up to me up here for their own benefit. I prefer being sucked up to for being feared."

"I'm sure you'd rather be sucked off." 

His face darkened with his blush. "Well, yes, but… God, you are forward."

Vicky was pretty forward. As curious as she was about Damien's other love interest, she hoped to avoid those heavy topics so soon. But she was bored, and she was a whore, so the obvious solution was to fuck.

She set her whiskey aside, and Damien downed the remainder of his. She crawled on top of him. She kissed him, kissed across his jaw, and scraped her teeth against his earlobe. Damien purred. With one hand, he pulled her back to his lips. He licked her lips with his broad tongue. When he slipped inside, he massaged the roof of her mouth. He pulled her shirt up to her shoulders and she pulled away from him to undress and discard her clothing. 

"You're gorgeous," he said. He stroked the underside of her breasts. Vicky bit her lip and smiled down at him. "These are amazing. No wonder you're so popular," he told her with a fistful of her breasts in hand.

Vicky pried Damien's hands off her chest and kissed his neck. She kissed down his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his belly. His hips bucked when she licked his erection through his pants.

"Fuck," he groaned. He unbuttoned his pants, and then lifted his hips so Vicky easily slipped his pants off. She held his erection in one hand as she languidly licked up his shaft. She tasted his precum on his head. When she slipped it into her mouth and lapped at the opening, his fingers combed through her hair. She swallowed him down to his base, where she smelled his sweat on his bladder. His breath rattled in his lungs. She only bobbed a handful of times before he grasped her chin and the back of her head, which effectively pinned her in place, and fucked her face. It touched her voice box, she gurgled, and it was delightful. She held his thighs to prevent from touching herself.

His thigh muscles quivered as he pulled out. Saliva and precum dripped onto Vicky’s chin. She smiled up at him. “You’re a freak, babe,” he hoarsed.

“Fuck me,” Vicky mewled. Damien vanished her pants and underwear like a magician. He dropped her legs over his shoulders, and held one of her quads as he positioned himself. Vicky’s moan echoed through her apartment. He was so long, he continuously massaged the nerve endings inside of her, and it made her legs spasm around his neck.

“God,” he groaned, “you’re amazing. I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion.”

“Like a toy?” she whined. Like a pretty doll he took everywhere. She wanted to be wanted by him so badly.

“Like a toy,” he concurred. He grabbed the arm of her sofa and pounded her unmercifully. It was like he hammered heat and bliss into her gut and it crept up to her chest and face. Her chest heaved. She ran her fingers through Damien’s silky hair. He kissed her palm, and when her hand drifted down his jaw, he caught two of her fingers in his mouth. He parted her pointer and middle fingers with his tongue and licked the webbing between them like he did when he wanted to be a crass, nasty bastard. As juvenile and stupid as it was, it pushed Vicky closer to the edge, like all he wanted was to lay between her legs and eat her like a lollipop.

Damien grunted. His thrusts became sloppy. With his eyes glued to her, he pumped her full of his seed. She watched him finish with a patient smile. He was so cute when he climaxed.

“Holy shit,” he breathed as he pulled his flaccid cock out of her. His cum coated him. It oozed onto her thighs. He pulled her lips open and watched it flow. When he looked back up at her, he had that awful, shit-eating grin that always went straight to her groin, and then said, “I’m gonna clean you up, baby.”

Vicky was helpless against his whims. She only whimpered as he scooted down to her pussy like a dream come true.

First, Damien licked up her. She covered her warm face. Already, he was so wonderful, overwhelming, fantastical. Three licks into his prize, a prize because Vicky felt as golden as a trophy, his pointed tongue pressed on. He lapped up his cum like a hungry cat, he even plunged inside and sucked it out. When he finished, he did a slow, torturous victory lap up to her clitoris that made her beg.

She grabbed his horn and pulled him against her crotch as hard as she possibly could have. He seemed to enjoy it. Damien pushed his fingers into her, and then he hooked them against the roof of her canal, and in conjunction with his oral treatment, it made her squirm and press herself against him, unable to conjure the means to tell him to go harder, faster.

“I love you, Damien,” Vicky finally gasped as her fingers ran through his silky hair, “please keep going!”

Damien picked up the pace. Her legs clenched around his impish ears. Vicky was helpless, because Damien was a fucking expert and her own whorishness worked against her. Her chest locked up. It was like she was overcome with a tidal wave of heat and loveliness.

Vicky helplessly laid as her chest heaved. Down and down she went, until she finally rolled her eyes forward to meet Damien's face on her chest. He wiped cum off his chin and then kissed her. "You're pretty metal, babe,” he said, “you held out for awhile."

"I have experience," she said. "Can we go lay down? This isn't the best place for post-coital snuggling."

Damien pulled Vicky to her feet. Inside her bedroom, she fell onto her bed, blissful and sated, secure in Damien's arms. Vera told her time and time that her relationship with men wasn't healthy, and Vicky knew her self-esteem was fueled by whoever her partner happened to be. But Vicky was an addict. She couldn't help herself.

"I love you, Vicky," Damien told her, as his fingertips traced her side. 

She smiled. "I love you too, Damien," and all was well with the world.

\---

Vicky and Damien went to school together, hand-in-hand, until Vera and Liam caught them together, and whisked her away to gossip.

“Sweet mother of god,” Liam said as they power walked to the back of campus, “did you guys spend the night together?"

“Yes,” Vicky replied.

“Like, in your bed?”

“... yeah. He’s my boyfriend. The loveseat isn’t long enough for him to sleep on to begin with. That’d be like stuffing a banana into a really tiny tupperware container, or a croc in a storm drain.” 

“Where the hell do you come up with these comparisons? You know what? Never mind, I don’t want to know,” Liam said. “Let’s rewind. First of all, I wanna know how all this happened. I’ve known Damien for a couple of years now and I don’t think he’s been with anyone who he’s come to school with.”

“Oh boy. I’ve been trying to get this to happen for awhile now, so I’ll give you the condensed version. Apparently, we liked each other, and were just too stubborn to talk about it until Vera made us talk about it yesterday.”

Vera sighed. “You know that’s not it.”

“Well, we did it last night,” Vicky replied.

"Wait, what? Mother of God, you two work fast. Was it any good?"

"It was fantastic," Vicky sighed wistfully. "He lasted forever, first of all. But he was so good. He finished in me, and then he got in there and cleaned it up with his mouth."

"Oh. Oh wow, that's hot," Liam mumbled.

"That… that is actually really hot, but that wasn't what I meant."

“Vera, are you talking about Damien’s polyamory?” Liam asked.

Apparently everyone but Vicky knew about it. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. "When we talked about it yesterday, it really stressed him out."

"Vicky…" Vera sighed, "I understand you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but you need to ask him about this. You deserve to know."

The way Vera talked about it, like Damien was a diseased whore and Vicky needed his bill of health, put her on edge. "We can talk about it when he's ready. I don't mind sharing Damien, and if it's someone likable enough, I might even partake myself. But this is something that really upsets him when he has to talk about it."

Vera stopped in front of Vicky, arms crossed over her chest and a look as stony as her victims. "You're his fucking girlfriend," Vera said. "I don't care if it makes him uncomfortable. You deserve his honesty. He doesn't get to pull the mysterious boyfriend shit like he's the love interest from a young adult novel, you two are partners, and he has to behave as such. No secrets. No beating around the bush."

"You're not being fair to Damien. He's not trying to hide things from Vicky. He's not the brightest, most socially skilled guy, but he's a good friend," Liam said.

"Is it fair to Vicky that she has to wonder who this other guy is?"

"That's enough," Vicky snapped. "I see your point Vera. I'll ask him about who else he's interested in, but I'm not gonna push. I know you're implying he might be keeping other partners a secret. But I trust Damien. He hasn't given me a reason to distrust him in the last year I've known him. He's sweet, he's just more awkward than he likes to let on, like Liam said. But I know you guys are just looking out for me, so I'll keep you guys in the loop. We'll talk about it if there's something that's setting off alarm bells for you."

Vera gritted her teeth. "Fine. Out of respect for you, I'll stand down. Just remember you deserve only the best."

"Thank you," Vicky replied with a grateful smile.

\---

Oz’s goo churned. He wondered what made him so nervous. Everything was so peaceful, and Zoe hummed atonally as she scribbled in her notebook.

“Zoe,” Oz whispered, “do you feel like something terrible is going to happen?”

“I don’t feel like much of anything right now,” she replied. “Are you okay? Oz?”

He exhaled. His eyes went dark.

And then Oz was in a lab. Rather, it was like he watched through a fisheye lens from his chest. He folded saran wrap around kilos of cocaine. He didn’t care much for coke, he certainly wanted nowhere near a coke house to begin with. 

“Put your fucking hands up!”

His head whipped up. Oz saw the spiral of the rifle’s barrel and then a flash.

He trembled. He tasted cotton candy and he was fucking exhausted. 

“Oz!” Zoe bled into his vision like water color. “Oh my god, Oz, are you okay? You started convulsing and speaking in tongues, and as hot as that was---”

“Stop, Zoe,” Oz groaned. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“Oz, what the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he massaged between his eyes. “I was… I was in this lab wrapping drugs, and then I think I was shot point blank.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible,” Zoe said. “That’s so vivid…. I thought you were just having a seizure because of my awesome fic. I think you had a premonition, though. At least that's how my premonitions have been happening since I've inhabited this form. Our friends could be in danger, we have to investigate this.”

Oz held his head. Zoe was right, but he was scared. What if they were too late? As old as Oz was, he wasn’t omnipotent.

\---

For hours, Vicky pondered Vera’s argument. Vera, of course, was right. She didn’t know much about Damien’s love life to begin with. The more Vicky thought about it, the more it seemed like something that they should have discussed from the get-go.

Still, she was nervous. She picked at her dinner. Damien had already gone through three servings and the only thing Vicky had done with her food is turned it into a weird, macerated pile of pasta and beef.

"Are you gonna eat that?" he asked.

Vicky pushed her plate towards Damien. "No. You're welcome to it."

"This stroganoff is fucking awesome. Why don't you bring your own lunch? Fuck, I'd stab a dozen of our classmates for this shit. This is almost as good as my dad's cooking."

"Really?" she said. Damien nodded as he shovelled more pasta down the hatch. "Y'know, I'd like some help with the dishes."

"Sure thing."

They stood next to each other, and Damien happily whistled an army cadence. "You know," Damien began, "I never really thought I'd like this domestic shit. I know my dads defrag at home, where everything is simpler than impending war. I just didn't think I'd be like them."

"I assume you're a lot like your dads. You got your sweetness from somewhere," Vicky said. 

"Same goes for my violent streak." They wrapped up. Damien flicked his wet fingers into the sink. "Y'know, I've been wondering how you died for awhile now. You're so… I don't know, homely, I guess? But you're stitched to shit. It's like someone popped your head into another body."

"That's pretty much exactly how that happened. My dad drank heavily. He got into a car accident and I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. I don't remember much after that until my dad's great uncle, who was a… geneticist, I think, reanimated me."

"How come we've never met him? Actually, why do you even live alone? You're only in high school."

"Gary, the man who reanimated me, died six years ago."

"So you've been living on your own for six years?"

"No." Vicky's talons sunk into her wash cloth. "Gary's brother Eugene took me in. I moved out two years ago."

Two years too little. Eugene still felt close by. She still felt his hands on her shoulders and his cum on her clothes. Her backside stung. She wanted to throw up. 

"Vicky?" Damien's voice sounded distant. She rocked in place, the entire world oscillated. She wobbled over to the couch and laid down.

Vicky was still dead in a lot of ways. She had a home, and was still homeless. She had friends, yet she had no family. Vicky was happy, on the outside. On the inside was a violent maelstrom of taint and cum and self-loathing that violently pummeled her.

"Vera, I don't know what to do. Vicky and I were talking about this Eugene guy and she completely checked out. I-I don't think she can even hear me right now…. Yeah, I'll pass you over. I just need a second."

Damien clasped Vicky's shoulder. "Babe?" he said, "Vera wants to talk to you."

Vicky gingerly held his phone against her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, sweetie. Are you safe?"

"No."

"Who hurt you?"

"Eugene is still here," Vicky said. "He never left. He recycles everything in my dreams. I wish I had died that day."

"Where is Eugene now? Is he still at your place?"

"I don't think so."

"Did Damien help him hurt you?"

"I don't know who Damien is."

"He's a friend, okay? You can trust him. I need your help, though. Can you breathe with me for a minute?"

"Okay."

"I'm going to count to seven. Inhale for me." Vera counted. Vicky breathed in. "Hold it… now exhale until I count to seven." Vicky exhaled. "Now, rub your arms, Vicky. Rub the couch. What does the couch feel like?"

"It's kinda coarse. But not in an itchy way." 

"Okay. What color are Damien's eyes?"

Vicky's eyes met with Damien's. They were gold, in a sad way. He looked worried. "They're yellow," she said.

"What else is yellow there?"

"The throw pillow. The one that's got braids on it. The kitchen has a yellow ladle. Well, the handle is yellow, the bowl is stained since I didn't rinse it off when I had tomato soup a couple months ago."

"Gross," Vera laughed. "Okay. One more thing. What do you hear?" 

"I think my ears are ringing. No, that's an ambulance. Did you call an ambulance?"

"No. They're just passing by. How do you feel?"

Vicky sat up. "Present," she said.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

She looked into Damien's eyes. He seemed reserved. Vicky got the feeling he was conflicted. She hadn't had an episode like that in months, and Damien deserved an explanation.

"I do, but I'll fill you in later," Vicky said.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

Vicky returned Damien's phone. "What the fuck was that?" Damien asked.

"Look… I have issues left over from the accident. Sometimes, I think back to it and I completely implode."

"Implode is about right. Is all that really from your accident?"

Vicky frowned. Why did her issues have to be so apparent that she had to bare her soul to everyone? All Vicky wanted was peace. But no, Damien had to pick and pry and fucking prod.

"It's in the past. I don't have to talk about it."

"You don't--- fuck, it's clearly not in the motherfucking past if you're still freaking out about it!"

"Fine!" Vicky snapped, "you want to know the truth? My dad beat the living shit out of me. I got three broken ribs, a broken finger, and a concussion before they divorced. Despite all this evidence, my dad managed to bail himself out and get weekend visitations un-fucking-supervised. He drank like a fucking racoon, and when he got drunk, he got madder! He unbuckled me and threw me against the dash when I was giving him lip. When I struggling to get away, he swerved into a fucking pole and I went through the windshield!"

"And of course, his damn uncle is a freak and had to bring me back for his precious research. I was tied to a table for years before he died. I was gonna starve on that table. But then Eugene saved me. But everything comes at a motherfucking price. I had to make sure his house was clean and he was jerked off. Day after day, and nobody helped me! No, you all just think this is an amazing survival story. I'm dying inside, and you all get to sit down and forget about it the second you leave my company. So I don't want to fucking talk about it anymore."

Vicky was so mad, her vision blurred. Her hair stood on end, and she shook like she clung to the ceiling of a steep fall. Damien was taken aback. He was probably mad. Vicky just wanted him gone, though. He was like everyone else. He picked at her wounds.

"Vicky," he whispered.

"Leave!" she boomed. "You're like everyone else. You don't care about me."

"Don't you ever say that!" he screamed. "I love you so much, it hurts, and it hurts even more knowing the pain you've been through." He grabbed her by her shoulders and threw her into his embrace. "I would kill hundreds of people if it made you happy," he said. 

Vicky tried to shove him off her. "Let go of me," she barked, "get the hell out of my house!"

"No. I'm staying here."

Vicky hit his kidney. Damien's hold loosened as he crumpled to the floor. "No! You don't get to pick at my wounds and keep your own damn secrets. Get out of my house, you edgy, self-absorbed bastard!"

"Fuck!" Damien cursed. "It's Brian, okay? But that doesn't fucking matter to me right now. You're hurting and it's at least partially my fault. You're fucking right. I'm not the most sensitive guy, but I love you so much, I would do anything for you, absolutely anything. I'm going to fix what I did wrong. I'm going to stay with you, even after you move past this."

Vicky was at a loss for words. She began to cry. She joined Damien on the floor, and then she lifted his shirt to look where she hit him. There was a fist-sized bruise there, the color of blueberries. "I'm sorry," she wept. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Damien sighed. "I'm okay." Damien sat up a grunt, exhaled harshly, and then hugged her like she was tiny and fragile. "It's okay. We're okay, baby."

She held him so tightly. He was slender. He was sturdy. "It's not okay. I said terrible things. I hit you."

"It's fine. It gave me wood, so we're even."

Vicky laughed. "Okay." She wiped her eyes. "I love you. I was just scared. And it hurts. It always hurts."

"I want to make your hurt go away. I know that I can't though. I'm here to comfort you, though. I'll always protect you."

Damien held the back of her neck. It seemed like forever that she stared into his eyes. Time was weird for Vicky. But she didn't particularly care, because Damien kissed her like she was sweet and fragile and priceless. 


	3. Three is monster's company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian, Damien, and Vicky get together, but Vicky always has reasons to be nervous.  
CWs for smut, past drug abuse, past csa, & maternal death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Halloween update for MonProm made me super emotional. Totally not relevant to this weeks' chapter, but it's important to Me(tm)

Brian spent a lot of time with Oz and Zoe. Their company was a pleasant reprieve from the hypermasculine mores of the football team. Besides, they engaged him pretty frequently. It was less like Brian crashed a date and more like three friends went out together and it was completely coincidental that two of them were an item.

Their company was healthy, Brian's therapist told him weeks ago. He continued to struggle with depression even in undeath. The effort required for him to try anything was enormous. He didn't watch television, he just stared at it. He slept through class. He winged it during games because he couldn’t remember Couch’s strategy. While Brian's therapist was impressed with his ability to improvise, Brian needed emotional and mental enrichment. He was ill, possibly disabled, and he couldn't do it on his own. That was where Oz and Zoe unknowingly came in.

While Brian felt a bit like he was a horse after a salt block stuck in a toy thanks to his therapist's analogy, they were right. Oz and Zoe were good-natured and excitable, and they kept him grounded, even with their quirks. Who wouldn't have gone a little looney if they were a timeless abomination? Brian was only in his twenties and he was already a fucking basket case.

Brian's therapist-voice reminded him that wasn’t very fair to himself.

He appreciated their company, but he hurt too. It was better than the nothingness.

Brian wasn't necessarily jealous of them. He was jealous of what they had: open and unabashed love. Oz adored Zoe and all her fiction, and Zoe adored Oz and all his crazy conspiracies. Meanwhile, Brian got to switch between selfies he had with Damien and Vicky for his lock screen because he didn't have a picture of the three of them together. Brian felt pretty awful about his indecision. Vicky slept around in search of love, and Brian wasn't what she deserved. Damien was active and vibrant, and Brian couldn't have kept up. They deserved someone affectionate and engaged.

They deserved better. Brian smothered his therapist-voice.

Oz looked over his shoulder. The way he turned all the way around made Brian wonder if Oz had a spine. "Hey, you're awfully quiet. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes. I was just wondering whether or not I want to go to the bar after this.”

"Oh, I wanna go drinking!" Zoe chirped. "I saw this spring break movie and everyone was drinking until they couldn't walk straight and it looked like sooo much fun and there were a ton of really cute boys."

"That's not how a normal bar works, but I'm down for a drink after this," Oz replied.

It was Brian's turn to buy tickets and Zoe took care of the snacks. The movie was likable, at least.

Brian looked through the corner of his eye. Zoe was curled up against Oz. His legs were folded and Zoe had draped one of her appendages over his lap. She lovingly stroked his cheek. They were so stupidly in love, it went straight to his motherfucking chest like a knife. Why couldn't he have what they had? Why couldn't he settle on just an average Joe to cuddle with? Instead, he wanted Damien and Vicky, he wanted them so badly he would have riveted himself to their sides. He wanted Vicky's waist in his arm, he wanted Damien's lips on his neck.

Brian suddenly braced the bar top with a full glass of bottom-shelf vodka under his nose. He quickly downed the entire glass. The burn came seconds later.

Oz sat next to Brian. "No offense, but you look like shit."

"I just wanna get hammered right now."

Oz slapped his hand over the top of Brian's glass a split second before the bartender refilled his drink. Brian gave him a dirty look.

"No. There's something on your mind, and we're gonna stay here, sober, until you spill it."

"I'm fine," Brian grumbled.

"I'll keep it between us. I promise. But you're my friend, I won't let you abuse your body like this."

Brian swallowed a thick lump in his throat. It didn't do much. "Promise?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Everyone has someone special and I'm left out. You and Zoe were practically made for each other. Me? I'm miserable. I hate myself so much, I can't choose who I love more: Damien or Vicky. If I was to tell either of them how I feel, I'd hurt them because I'd still be pining for the other, and I won't ask them to both go out with me. That's so selfish and perverted. But these feelings are gnawing at my insides the more I try to ignore them. I don’t want to keep feeling this, miserable, lonely, self-loathing."

"Oh, Brian," Oz said. "I'm so sorry. I won't patronize you by telling you it gets better. It will, but it's more important to me right now that you understand how fantastic you are. You are driven and fun, Brian. I love every minute I spend with you. There are people like me who want to be with you."

Brian wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I wish I had a doll I could just take out of my closet when I need it and put it away when I'm done."

"That's not good enough for you. You deserve company; brilliant, fun companionship like yourself." Oz rubbed Brian's back. "Look. You don't know how Damien and Vicky feel about you. You haven't spoken to them in weeks, Brian. Maybe they're okay welcoming you in as an equal partner. I know Damien at least used to be into you. Maybe that hasn't changed."

"No, I can't. I'm a terrible friend. I'm just gonna bum them out."

"Like you bum me and Zoe out?" 

Oz's argument made Brian pause. "I don't know."

"Humor me. Just ask them out, Brian."

He nodded. "I will. Thank you, Oz. I think I'm gonna head home though. Tell Zoe I said goodnight."

"I will. Goodnight, Brian."

\---

“Are you sure you want me to go home? My dads won’t mind if I stick around.” Damien asked. He lingered in front of her door as if it stormed outside. His concern touched Vicky, but she needed some time to mellow out from their fight because her wrist hurt from when she hit Damien earlier, and she didn’t want to seem like she wanted to keep Damien from his family. 

“I’ll be okay,” Vicky said, “I love you, Damien.”

“Well, I love you too, but,”

“It’s okay, really,” she reassured him. “I need to call Vera anyways. Normally, I wouldn't mind talking on the phone around you, but crime things might come up, and I'd rather not get you involved in felony conspiracy.”

“Well, okay. I love you. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Damien replied. He hugged her. She held his face, and she kissed him. He kissed her fingers before he left.

With her apartment to herself, Vicky popped in a set of earbuds and dialed Vera’s number.

“How’d it go?” Vera asked.

“We made up. It got a little heated and I hit Damien after I let you go, but he doesn’t seem mad. I just feel awful about the whole thing. I’ve never had an episode like that.”

“What happened anyway?”

“Just… when I was a kid, my dad got into an accident, and I ended up dying. I was reanimated by one of his uncles. He experimented on me for a long time. When he died, his brother took me in. I… was taken advantage of there. And beaten. It got to the point where it was easier to jerk him off because at least he was nice then.”

“Damien was asking about my death. I don’t mind, he just… started prying into the whole thing and I remembered everything and completely imploded.”

“Dear God, I’m going to ream him a new hole tomorrow.”

“There’s no need. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret."

“He still should’ve been more compassionate. That’s a sensitive topic, especially with your history. He’s so fucking stupid. God, I wish I saw what you did.”

“Well, I hit him hard enough that I think I strained my wrist, so….”

“Fine. Just… red flags, hun. I like Damien and all, but you’re not healthy, and he needs to be aware of that.”

“I know, Vera. Thank you. I need to hit the sack, though. Goodnight.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.”

\---

A day passed since Vicky’s first fight with Damien. They were out for dinner because Vicky forgot to eat breakfast and she gave Scott her lunch since he forgot to eat breakfast too. Vicky’s endless pancakes were half-eaten beside Damien’s fritters.

“So… Brian,” Vicky began, "I don't suppose you've talked to him about us."

"No. I haven't seen Brian in weeks, actually."

"Me neither…. We should talk to him, though. This is something important to you."

"I don't want to overwhelm you."

"Whatever happens, we'll work through it."

Damien smiled. "Thanks."

"So… how do you wanna go about this, then?" Vicky tried to approach everything with a plan. Few things were done without a detailed outline of her goals and the steps of which to achieve them. If something went awry, she still had an endgame and a clear strategy to tweak. Her technique was necessary when she and Vera held up banks. Adaptability was essential, but winging it was dangerous.

Damien did not share Vicky’s viewpoint.

“Babe, we can literally just ask Brian out on a date.”

“I’m not gonna go up to him and ask if he wants to go out with us. He’s gonna feel like an afterthought. Or a fucking sex toy.”

“You like being a sex toy, though.”

“Because I know you still care about me. I know I’m more than just a sex toy because you’ve defended my honor and my life in the past. I know because we’ve been good friends for months and months. We, the two of us, haven’t established the same trust with Brian. If we just ask him out, he’s gonna think the only thing we want out of him is a threeway. But I like him. Well, I like the idea of him, at least, but that’s another matter entirely. What’s more important is that he should feel like an equal, valued member.”

“... Vicky. I appreciate your sensitivity, it’s one of my favorite things about you, but you realize a date only translates to sex with me and douchebags, right? We’re asking him out on a date. Not a fetish ball.”

“Wait, what now?”

“Fetish balls. They’re like… demonstrations of certain kinks, but it’s a party. Sometimes they’re orgies.”

“What kind of fetishes?”

“All kinds. I’ll get us tickets when the next one rolls around," Damien replied.

“No, I digress!” she squawked. “Okay. We can ask him directly, but we have to let him know we’re asking him because we’re emotionally invested in him.”

Damien’s phone blasted a pop song. The caller ID displayed Brian’s name and Damien looked like he just shat himself. “What do I do?” he whispered hurriedly like Brian was within earshot.

“Answer it! Act natural!”

Damien picked up the call. “Top o’ the morning to ya!”

Vicky wanted to throttle Damien. Nonetheless, she pressed her ear to his phone to listen in.

“Hi, Damien,” Brian said. “I know this is a weird thing to ask, especially this late, but…” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“I… I really like you. I like Vicky too. Scott tells me you’re together now and I know how fucking bizarre this is, but I want to go out with the two of you. Dinner, a movie, whatever you guys want. I really just want time with you.”

Vicky’s mouth hung open. Damien looked over to her, helpless, and she furiously nodded.

“I-I have her here with me. We’d love to go, Brian. Let’s see Head Huntress tomorrow night at seven.”

“That works great. I’ll pick you up at Vicky’s.”

“Great, we’ll see you then.”

Before Damien even hung up, he whipped around and squeezed Vicky in a tight hug. “I can’t believe that just fucking happened! I can’t believe we have a fucking date with Brian!” He kissed her fiercely. “You’re amazing, you know. I love you so much.”

Vicky returned Damien’s embrace. “I love you too, and I’m so glad we have this opportunity.” That was all Vicky wanted, to make Damien the happiest man ever, after all.

\---

Vicky held up her skirt and held a pair of lace panties against the polka-dotted pair she wore. Normally, she didn't concern herself with the lingerie she wore, but she still felt guilty about her fight with Damien, and somehow, her guilt and libido were intertwined. 

"Wear the lace one," Damien said. He sat on her bed with his ankles crossed. "But you don't have to… to fuck us, you know. I mean I’m not complaining if you’re horny, I’m always down for a blowjob, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. Especially since everything kinda just crashed down the other day.”

"It’s more complicated than that.” She slipped off her panties. “I like having sex. I like the feeling, and I like the attention I get from it. But sometimes I’m in so much pain, I use it to distract myself, or make myself feel better. It’s situational.”

“Is this what you’re doing now?”

Yes. “No. Brian’s just hot and I want him to stuff his face in my pussy when he sees my underwear,” she lied.

“I know they make me want to stuff my face in your pussy.” Damien held her from behind and kissed her neck. “Are we almost ready to go?”

“I thought Brian was picking us up.”

“He’s outside.”

“And you waited this long to tell me?”

“I’m sorry,” Damien said. He pulled her to the curb where Brian idled his pickup truck. That time of year, it was dark, and his yellow headlights were oddly haunting. Vicky climbed into the back and she felt woefully overdressed. Damien and Brian both wore jeans and tees. 

She felt… dirty, like she was about to explain her pricing to him.

"Hey, there," Brian said. "How's it going?"

"I'm having a good time," Damien said. Vicky nodded, suddenly breathless. What the hell made her so anxious out of the blue?

They arrived at the movie theatre. Tickets and concessions were the kind of blur where Vicky smelled popcorn, blinked, and then they were ten minutes into the movie. Damien held her hand. His thumb stroked her knuckles. It made her want to cry. She was such a dramatic, selfish toddler. The second Damien hadn't paid her attention, she combusted because she was a hypocritical brat. She fucked whoever she wanted, but she couldn't take what she dished, and her loved ones had to pay the price.

When the movie ended, Damien stretched in the lobby. "I need to take a leak. Why don't we go bar hopping once we're done here?"

"I could go for a drink," Brian replied. "See you in a second."

Vicky mulled around next to Brian. He stood with his hands tucked in his pockets. Generally, he was stoic, it was hard to get a read on him, if at all possible.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"What? No," Vicky said. "I'm sorry. I think I'm coming down with a head cold."

Brian combed back his hair. "I didn't mean to drop off the planet. I just felt pretty bad about this whole thing. I didn't want to make you guys feel like you were playing second fiddle or something. I still don’t want that.”

She smiled. "I know." She ought to be honest with Brian, nonetheless. "I'm just… sick, emotionally. I want Damien to be happy, but I can’t help feeling like a third wheel, in a whorish way." She held herself. “Some things happened to me years ago. I got into a fight about it with Damien the other day and… I’m still coming down, I guess.”

"I understand. I'm the same way. Oz had to twist my arm to get me to call you guys. I was miserable before I died, and I'm still struggling now." Brian held her fingers like she was thin ceramic. "I want to burden your pain with you, though."

Vicky looked him square in the eye. "I was sexually abused and experimented on when I was a kid. I have nightmares. I bury my feelings with sex. Sometimes, when I think back on it, I completely shut down. Just the other day, Damien and Vera had to deal with that. I couldn’t remember who Damien was. I thought my abuser was still a part of my life. Do you want to deal with that? Me dissociating? Screaming about how awful you are?"

"When I was a kid, I watched my mom overdose. I was shipped foster home to foster home until I ran away when I was sixteen. I have nightmares from when I was hitchhiking. I have scars. I've only been able to look at them for a couple of months without wanting to claw my eyeballs out. I overdosed and rot away in a ditch until I was reanimated by this bastard wizard who used me as a guinea pig. I was turned inside out a couple of times. Do you wanna deal with me tossing and turning in the middle of the night because I’m having nightmares?"

Vicky squeezed his hands. "I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn’t mean to minimize your pain, but I'm so glad you're with us now." They were Brian's family. Anything which dared harm him had better prepared to meet her assault rifles.

"I'm glad I'm with you," he said. He pulled Vicky into a hug. She held his waist, and she felt better. Like there was no second fiddle. Like she wasn't a novelty whore. “You two make me want to feel things again. I bury everything with alcohol, but I don't think I'd mind cutting back if you guys were behind me."

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Damien returned from the bathroom. “We need to hurry to the bar! My pee isn't opaque.”

“Too much information,” Vicky groaned. She wasn’t opposed to a drink, however. Maybe she’d get some crazy drunk sex in the bathroom.

\---

Brian and Vicky hauled Damien inside with his arms around their shoulders. Vicky was less than sober herself, but at least she cared to walk. Damien wanted to kiss her ear instead.

“This way to my bedroom,” she told Brian. 

They dropped Damien onto her bed. She pried off his shoes before he pulled her on top of him. “Vicky wore sexy underwear and we let it go to waste, Brian,” he said. Vicky giggled as he reached under her shirt.

“C’mon, less horny, more sleepy,” Brian said.

“Are you really drunk enough that you can’t get wood?” Damien groaned. “Buuuullshiiiiiiit, I had like… ten times what you did and I’ve been rockin’ it for an hour.”

“I can get it up just fine, I’m just not comfortable fucking someone so drunk they can’t walk.”

“I can walk, I just didn’t want to. She’s so soooo pretty.”

Vicky held Damien up as Brian removed his jacket. When they finally got it off, Damien fell, and he reached up to unbutton Brian's pants. “C'mon, let's have some fun, baby."

“No,” Brian swat Damien away, albeit unsuccessfully since Damien pried him out of his boxers and kissed the underside of his cock. Brian shuddered. “You’re impossible," he grunted.

Damien licked and licked. Vicky watched with rapt attention: the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, the way Brian reluctantly caved in and pulled up his shirt for Damien. Damien was always so violent, so commandeering, it was unexpected to see him fawn over anything phallic, let alone an actual phallus. The penis was always something Vicky groveled to. She enjoyed it, but on the other hand, she loathed the pain it caused her and the power it had over her.

The scene awoke something in Vicky.

Brian held Damien’s head and slipped his cock into his throat. It bulged against his trachea. Vicky held his neck with one hand and pumped his cock with the other. Damien gagged, but he seemed to like it since he played with her through her clothes.

Damien popped Brian's cock out of his mouth. "Fuck," he gasped. Vicky worried for a second until he pumped Brian with his fist and licked the precum off the head. “Let’s get naked real quick.” Their clothes were quickly discarded. When they finished, Damien pushed Vicky onto the pillows and positioned her so his head was between her legs and his ass was groin-level with Brian. He looked back at Brian. "C'mon, I've wanted this forever, now."

Brian’s eyes bugged out of his head. Vicky laughed. She rummaged through her nightstand, and then she tossed Brian condoms and lube. Damien stripped her panties as Brian applied lube to himself and Damien.

Brian pressed himself into Damien. They groaned in unison. Damien’s fingers dug into her hips, he rested his forehead against her bladder.

"Damien, are you alright?" Vicky asked.

"Yeah," he answered. "Brian, you're fucking enormous."

Vicky almost wanted to give Damien a thumbs up. Anal sex wasn’t easy, especially if it was something large packed in there.

Nonetheless, Damien told Brian to go on. He turned his face back into Vicky's crotch, and before he dove in, he smiled and licked his lips, as if he starved for her pussy even a day without it. It filled Vicky’s gut with heat again. Damien latched onto her clitoris, and he was furious as Brian was as he thrust into his pelvis. She grabbed his horn and smiled at Brian. Surely, it was an unbelievable visage, the objects of his infatuation intertwined while he fucked them. Brian whimpered, he grabbed Damien by the base of his tail, and Vicky realized Damien watched her, with his golden, fluorescent eyes, and his brows knit together. He blinked asynchronously as if Brian fucked him so hard he malfunctioned.

"Get in there," she told Damien. He groaned as she used his horn as a handle to rub him against her groin. He pumped his cock with one hand as he used to other to hold her open for his mouth. He plunged his tongue into her, she hissed with elation as he rubbed the roof of her cavern.

Damien choked. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, he tremored. She felt his warm cum hit the back of her legs. Brian shortened and quickened his hip thrusts to milk every ounce of delight out of Damien.

Finally, Brian pulled out, discarded his condom, and kissed Damien's neck before he laid him aside and crawled towards Vicky on his knees.

He looked hungry, she thought. Her breath picked up with anticipation.

"Let's get you taken care of," he said as he pulled her legs over his shoulders. She wordlessly stared into his eyes.

Brian awkwardly positioned himself and then pushed inside of her. She moaned. His cock curved up, it reminded Vicky of a banana, and with every thrust, it rubbed all the right places. She melted like Damien did. Her eyes rolled back, she filled the bedroom with her noisy rapture. Damien, once he caught his breath, held her by her neck and kissed her. Normally, Vicky wasn’t one for the taste of her own cum, but the entire situation overwhelmed her senses. Everything made her groan and moisten.

"Please," she quietly begged Brian, "fuck me harder."

Brian pushed Damien out of the way. He clutched her head with their bodies flush and fucked her hard enough the bedframe creaked like music. Her nails dug into his back. His teeth sunk into her neck. Vicky was in Heaven, so close to the edge of Paradise.

She climaxed quickly. Brian filled her like a hose, and her legs trembled uncontrollably.

Brian fell onto her. He kissed her bolts. “Stay for a second,” she told him as her chest heaved. Disobediently, he pulled out, and his cum oozed onto her sheets. “Dammit.”

“Sorry,” Brian said. He grabbed the tissues on her nightstand and wiped the excess of cum off her. She would have rather he left it, but her sheets must have appreciated his cleanliness. “I meant to come on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have internal reproductive organs, so I can’t get pregnant.”

“Well, I shoot blanks, so I’m less concerned about pregnancy and more concerned about smearing cum everywhere,” Brian replied.

“Well, thank you,” she said.

Brian rolled over and sighed pleasantly. Damien kissed them both. “You guys are amazing,” he said. Both Brian and Damien’s arms were thrown across Vicky’s waist. It wasn’t claustrophobic. She felt adored. Sated. She wished she had more mouths to kiss her boyfriends with.

“Y’know, my parents want to meet you guys,” Damien said. 

Was Vicky not pinned by a set of heavy arms, she would have jumped out of bed in surprise. It felt like a hot ball of lead was punted into her belly. It made her throat swell.

“Since when?” Brian asked.

“My dad Stan texted me when we were in the movie. He’s wondering if tomorrow works for you guys to come down to Hell.”

“Sure,” Brian said.

“Me too,” Vicky agreed. 

Nonetheless, Vicky was nervous…. The kings of Hell were sure to look down on a lowly whore and robber like herself. She almost wanted to beg Damien to reconsider. She knew she wasn’t good enough for a prince with a future more enormous than anything she was destined for. Damien’s fathers were sure to despise her. They were sure to boot her to the curb.

But Brian and Damien promised to shoulder the hard times with her. She convinced herself, well after her boyfriends drifted off to sleep, that she would wait to see how it turned out.


	4. Uneasy, queasy, horrific beaings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicky meets more family than she wants, and Oz and Zoe continue their search.
> 
> CWs for gore, unreality, & familial abuse, & explicit violence

Oz felt great! Not only did he save Brian from a tragic tailspin which ended in Brian's violent death in a coke house, but he got Brian two dates on top of that.

He kissed Zoe. She was beautiful, how her tendrils bounced like Victorian curls as they hopped beneath colored lights and heavy music. He wasn’t one for nightlife or dancing, but everything was more fun with Zoe and with the knowledge that none of his friends were due for expiration.

Zoe gave his phobias another drink, he felt like he swallowed unbridled rapture.

His legs gave out and he fell to the floor.

\---

Blood and soot spilled from his fingertips. His index fingers were curled. Blood drained into his eyes as brain matter floated midair like soap bubbles.

There were screams. They echoed around him like they echoed off mountains.

He fell. Blue snakes covered his eyes. He fell, fell, fell into pits of lightning and vats of bloodshed and drowned in the taste of metal.

\---

His mouth tasted like cotton candy. Zoe held him up by his pits with a couple of her appendages and there were tears in her many, many eyes.

“Oz?” she said. “Oz, what the hell was that?”

He couldn’t catch his breath. Had he not saved Brian? Were there other triggers that drove him to drugs? Was Oz wrong from the beginning? Could the snakes have meant Vera instead? His head spun. He pushed Zoe away and dry heaved due to his headache.

Zoe rubbed his back. She didn’t move an inch, even as other dancers collided into them.

“We were wrong, weren’t we?” she said. “We need to keep looking.”

As he clutched Zoe’s arm, he nodded. Time was of the essence.

\---

Vicky's fingers dug into the sides of the toilet. The morning light made her head pound. She gagged. Her stomach shoved itself into her throat. Thankfully, all she had for ten hours was water, but her heaves were still painful.

The worst of it was that refused to purge her anxiety like it purged her stomach acid.

When Vicky wiped her face, she recalled Damien's conversation with her and Brian. He wanted them to meet his parents. But Vicky wasn't anything impressive. She was cowardly and filthy and used up, and Damien was a prince. His fathers were sure to look down their nose at her. He deserved better than Vicky could have ever offered.

The three of them gathered in front of campus after school. Brian drove them to her apartment, where Damien drew a portal to Hell on her wall in chalk.

"Close your eyes," he told them, "don't open them until I say."

He grabbed their hands and dragged them through. For a split second, Vicky was assaulted by the kind of heat that singed her hair and the screams of thousands of anguished souls followed as they echoed in a stone amphitheater.

It cut out a second later. "You guys are good now," said Damien.

They were in his room. It was clean, unremarkable. He quickly led them outside. “My dads are in the family room. It’s this way.”

“This is surprisingly domestic,” Vicky remarked. There were beige carpet and pictures on eggshell-colored walls outside. She expected weathered stone and armor stands, or something gruesome and gothic.

“My parents built this under the castle. They say it helps them compartmentalize or something.”

“Well, this isn’t nearly as scary as I expected. I was gearing up for a torture dungeon and guards with pitchforks.”

“Oh, there are plenty of dungeons. They’re just upstairs.”

Damien opened the door into the family room. His parents were a giant blue horned creature and a scrawny red thing vaguely reminiscent of Oz, with his monochromatic eyes and absence of a mouth. They both wore sweats and t-shirts and had PlayThing controllers in hand.

“Hey, dads,” Damien said, “these are my partners: Brian and Vicky. Brian, Vicky, these are my dads. That’s Stan,” he pointed to the blue man, “and Lucien,” he then pointed at the red demon.

“Well, hello there! We’ve heard so many good things about the two of you. Damien never shuts up! In fact, sometimes he gets so excited and starts talking so fast that I only understand every other word. Come, sit,” said Lucien, after he furiously shook her and Brian’s hands.

“Dad, please,” Damien bashfully mumbled.

Vicky sat beside Stan. She felt like a bug.

“So, tell us more about you,” Lucien said.

“Well,” Brian began, “I play football, keep my grade point average around two-point-nine so I can stay on the team. I like alcohol. I’ve been infatuated with Brian and Vicky for around nine months now. Oh, I can sleep past three in the afternoon given the opportunity, too, but that’s only because I’ve royally fucked over my sleep schedule thanks to our friends Oz and Zoe keeping me up until godforsaken hours of the morning binging our shows.”

When Vicky’s turn came, she felt trapped. Embarrassed. The only things about her were tragedy and robbery. “Well… I’m an A-student. I make a living bank-robbing, sometimes I go bowling with my friends Vera and Liam. I get creamed every time.”

“God, me too. I tried throwing the ball instead of rolling it, and we got kicked out,” Stan said.

“Y’know, I tried throwing it too, but I ended up breaking the floor.”

“It’s all in the wrist. I’ll show you the next time we go bowling,” Stan promised.

“So… plans for college? Or marriage?” Lucien asked.

Brian and Vicky choked on their spit. “Dad,” Damien hissed, “we’re not there yet!”

“Well, don’t you like them, Damien?”

“Of course, but it makes people uncomfortable talking about it, dad,” Damien argued.

“Lucien, he’s right. Asking couples from the surface about marriage makes them incredibly awkward for some reason,” Stan said.

Lucien sighed. “Alright, I apologize. Is college still a safe topic?”

“Yeah,” Brian replied. “I’ve been offered a couple of sports scholarships.”

“I, uh…” Vicky swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t have any plans for her future. The furthest ahead she planned for her future was her next bank robbery and her next exam. Meanwhile, Brian already had college lined up, and Damien’s future was secured by his kingdom and passion for cosmetology. It was like there was no future for Vicky, only survival in the present. 

“I’ve been submitting applications to colleges. I’m not entirely sure what I want to do, though,” she lied.

“You have your whole life ahead of you, Vicky. You don’t have to have the whole thing laid out yet,” Lucien reassured her. “Life sure as hell didn’t go as planned for us, after all.”

Stan sighed wistfully. “I didn’t expect I’d be king. My siblings all killed each other, so I just assumed I’d be killed in a power struggle as well. I certainly didn’t foresee marrying and bearing a child with my archnemesis.” He held Lucien’s hand with an adoring smile. “I wouldn’t change a thing, though. Maybe in time, you’ll find a place with us in Hell if you can’t find anywhere else, Vicky. God knows you’re already damned even being near our son.”

Vicky felt like the walls peeled and buried her beneath paint chips. “If I could be excused,” she said, “I need to use the restroom.”

"Take a right, it'll be the second door on the right.”

Vicky escaped into the bathroom, locked the door, and spiraled into a panic attack so extreme she had to brace the sink to keep herself upright. Her tears and snot trickled down the drain as Vicky struggled to catch her breath among her loathful and livid thoughts. Lucien and Stan were unimpressed, and it was only a matter of time before Damien realized she was a dud and left her, or worse, never spoke to his family again thanks to her.

She wept and fell onto the linoleum, where she curled up into a tight ball.

A knock came from the door. “Babe? Are you alright?” Damien asked.

“I-I’m fine,” Vicky said nasally, an obvious giveaway for her very much not okay-ness. She cursed under her breath. “I just need a minute.”

“Hey, are you crying?”

“No.”

“You sound like you’re crying. I know what you sound like when you’re crying. Baby, let me in, let’s talk about this. Open the door.”

Vicky mechanically opened the door. She couldn’t look Damien in the eye, even when he lifted her face up. She squeezed her eyelids so tightly it made her ears rumble.

“Look at me. What’s wrong? You’re kinda freaking me out, babe.”

“Just,” Vicky groaned and wiped her face with toilet paper, “they don’t like me. Your dads.”

“Of course they like you. They were really excited to meet you and Brian.”

“No! I’m a whore, they’re gonna figure out I’m cheap and forgettable. You’re a prince. I’m gonna drag you down one of these days.”

“I don’t really want to rule Hell, babe. They may not understand that, but my dads will try. And they do like you, a lot, in fact. They think you’re down to earth and polite. Politically, they think you’d be a relatable symbol to bring the royal family closer to our citizens. They want you to be a part of our family. I want that too.”

Vicky stood still as stone as Damien hugged her. He was so intense, it was too much for her. “I love you so much,” Damien said, “what can I do to help you feel better, Vicky?”

She shook her head. “I’m just… scared. I’m out of my element.”

“I understand, but you’re gonna be fine. Brian and I are here for you! We’re always here for you.” Damien helped Vicky clean up her face of tears and snot. “Let’s get you fixed up and have some dinner. Dad made ravioli.”

“Okay.”

Vicky shoved her face back into place and dabbed her face dry with toilet paper. Damien kissed her before he led her into the conjoined kitchen and dining room.

She was not comfortable among Damien’s family. She was unused to affection and proximity, like how Lucien pet her hair, or how Damien jostled her back and forth while he told them of one of their hijinks, but her boyfriends were happy, and Vicky wanted to be happy with them for the time being before she learned how to be happy with a family on her own.

Damien took Brian and Vicky back into his room after dinner. “Are you sure you guys have to go home? There’s a king-sized bed in the guest room we can use.”

“I’d feel weird staying here…. I don’t do well in sleepovers,” Vicky said

“And I won’t lie, I've been putting off my extra credit for, like, a month, and it's due tomorrow morning," replied Brian.

Damien sighed. "Alright. I'll see you guys tomorrow, then."

She and Brian tumbled through the doorway into their world and emerged in her bedroom. Vicky kissed Brian goodnight on his way out.

It was nice to be home after her exhaustive episode at Damien’s house. But she had work she needed to do, so she dialed for Vera.

“Hi. I figured I should ask how the plans are coming along,” Vicky said.

“Splendidly. I’m glad you called,” said Vera. “Something occurred to me the other day. We get tons of cash from the banks, but imagine the payout getting just as much money from a drug lab, and taking their product and selling it. No middle man, just an enormous profit after we sell it to dealers. I crunched the numbers and we’ll make almost twice what we do robbing banks.”

That was enough to convince Vicky. “That sounds great! We’ll have to take precautions, though. They’ll have tons of guns if we rob a lab.”

“Absolutely. But that’s why we’ll do it the day after tomorrow. I’m having full gear shipped in. Body armor, automatic weapons, cell jammers, the whole gambit.”

“That’s great.”

“There’s still the issue of us getting ambushed, though. Most of these labs I’ve had scouted have at least seven people in there. Drugs, seven hardened criminals against the two of us, plus guns? Even with body armor, I don’t like those odds, so I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay. What did you want to ask?”

“This won’t be much different from our ordinary arrangement. The thing is with these labs: they’ll have product and money stashed everywhere. Can you keep seven people at bay while I search the house? I can handle the jammers, tying everyone up, and whatever miscellaneous tasks that come up since seven people are a lot to handle for anyone, but I need you to keep them under control.”

“Of course. It should be easy once we’ve frisked them and tied them up.”

“Vicky, you are amazing, you know,” Vera said. “I need your size, though.”

“I normally go with a medium. I’m twenty-eight, twenty-four, twenty-eight if that means anything.”

“Ooh, hourglass,” Vera cooed. “Alright. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, Vicky. Have a good night.”

“You too, Vera. I love you. Sweet dreams.”

\---

Vicky enjoyed her chemistry class. The smell of chlorine and formaldehyde made her giddy, but she was still exhausted from her visit to Hell. She only wanted to Brian and Damien on either side of her.

But Vicky had an exam. She studied hard for it and all that effort would have gone to waste if she played hooky. So she kissed Brian and Damien when she saw them that morning and then perused her notebook with formulas and compounds and the likes expertly drawn onto her notebook.

In the middle of the exam, Vicky was called to the office over the intercom. Fear struck her heart. Had someone found out about the robberies?

Vicky made her way to the administrator’s office. When she walked inside, a large creature, tall and bald, sat in the waiting area.

She wanted to puke.

"Vicky!" Eugene cried with delight. He lumbered over to Vicky, who was frozen in place. "I've missed you so much." His thick fingers brushed through her hair. She wanted to break his arm again and again until it was fucking paste.

"What're you doing here?" she asked.

"I told you. I've missed you so much, I want us to be a family again." 

A family, like when he pinned her face in her pillows and took her raw like she was a slab of meat.

Vicky tore away from Eugene with a cry of horror. Blood rushed into her legs. The memory of his torment crashed around her like Eugene threw open the floodgates. Vicky had to hide from Eugene's bloodthirst. The forest should have been sufficient protection.

Outside, Damien and Scott caught her arm.

“Vicky, what’s wrong, you look like you saw a ghost,” Scott said.

“Let go!” Vicky screamed. She tugged her arm as hard as she could, but Scott was so much stronger than she was. "Help! Somebody help me!"

“Vicky, it’s us!” Damien said, “tell us what’s wrong.”

“He’s here! He’s going to hurt me!”

“Who’s going to hurt you?”

Vicky picked at her stitches. They unraveled, and her arm fell off in the middle of her forearm, and she took off as fast as her legs carried her. She ran until her eyes only saw the forest, the school was hidden behind leaves and wood, and Eugene disappeared with it.

\---

"He?" Damien grumbled. Not a second later, it felt like he was kicked in the gut. “Eugene is here,” he realized. 

He was back to hurt Vicky. His precious Vicky, whose smile outshined the moon and stars and who was brave enough to stand against the world with jolly comparable to the holiday spirit.

Damien never saw red so vividly when he took off for the administrator’s office.

He grabbed Eugene, a tall, bald man, by the back of his shirt, and heaved him into hellfire, where they disappeared into Damien’s room. Eugene instinctually froze as he processed the transportation, which Damien used to throw him across the room.

“You son of a bitch!” Damien boomed. “She used to be so happy, and you ruined her, so I’m gonna ruin you!”

Eugene pushed himself onto Damien’s bed. It was a fruitless escape, since Damien’s tail wrapped around Eugene’s ankle and pulled as hard as he could. 

“Please don't do this,” Eugene pleaded.

“Did you stop when Vicky begged you to stop? Did you ever consider how much it hurt her being your sex toy? How much it hurt for a grown man to fuck a kid?” Damien grabbed him by his collar and threw him onto the floor. “You don’t fucking deserve to live, you sick bastard. I’m gonna throw you into a boiling cauldron and stab you for the rest of eternity with a motherfucking pitchfork!”

He kneeled on Eugene’s shoulders once he pinned Eugene to the floor. Damien pulled a knife from his waistband and stabbed Eugene square in the jugular. Eugene flailed and gurgled. Damien forced his head back by his chin, raised the knife high above them, and then slammed it down as hard as he could. He heard the knife snap when it severed Eugene’s spine and connected with the floor below them.

Eugene began to disintegrate into black ash. Damien had a lot to clean between the ash and blood. Damien breathed for a minute before he reached into his pocket to text Vera and Brian. Not a second later, Brian’s call came in.

“What the hell do you mean Vicky is missing?” he screamed over the receiver.

“I mean she ran into the forest not too long ago and we need to look for her before it gets dark,” Damien said he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I need to do some cleanup at home before I can come back.”

“What kind of cleanup, Damien?”

“Eugene was a real bastard to her as a kid. He decided to pay her a visit. I took care of him, but I need to clean my room before my parents get back,” Damien explained. "We need to keep this between us for now, though, okay?"

“... thank you, I’m sure she appreciates it. I love you. I’ll let you know when we find Vicky, okay?”

“Thanks, Brian. I love you too.”

\---

It became unbelievably cold as dusk rolled around. The cold bit at her skin like rats nibbled at dying flesh.

“Vicky?”

When her name was called, Vicky covered her sobs with her hands. Not a sound escaped between her fingers despite how her heart tumbled into her gut. She rocked in place. Her efforts for self-preservation were useless.

"Baby, it's me," Brian said. "Come down here."

Vicky carefully opened her eyes. Brian stood alone on the ground with a flashlight pointed into the pine tree to illuminate her. 

"We've been looking for you for hours, Vicky. Let's take you home."

"No!" she snapped. "He's still out there. He knows where I am. He's going to hurt me!"

"Vicky, Eugene will never hurt you again. You have me and Damien who'll protect you. I know Vera would do just about anything to keep you safe."

Vicky cursed herself. Brian was dirty and tired of searching for the forest. She was so juvenile in her fear, to run and hide. Brian and Damien must have been worried sick. Vera must have been pretty put out as well.

She made her way down the tree trunk and ran into Brian's embrace. He squeezed her like he wanted to mold them together. 

"I'm sorry," Vicky said. "He was gonna do something awful, though! I'm a little toy to Eugene. You guys wouldn't recognize me when he was done. I didn't know what else to other than run as far away as I could. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you guys."

Brian, with his face buried in her neck, said, "It's okay. I'm just so glad you're safe. Let's put this awfulness behind us and go home."

Vicky nodded obediently.

Her arm was in the back of Brian's truck. She pulled it into her lap. Vicky couldn't reattach it in the car since it was too shaky, but she was glad to have it back. 

It still felt like Eugene was just outside the door with a hook in hand. Vicky clutched her arm like a club.

When Brian parked outside Vicky's apartment, she saw Damien pace through the window. His hands raked through his hair, his tail twitched like the tail of a nervous cat. Brian guided her inside by her hand. Vicky felt awful. He must have been so worried about her.

Damien looked like the weight of the world fell off his shoulders when she walked inside.

"I'm so glad you're okay, " he said.

"I'm sorry, " Vicky replied as she hugged her disembodied arm to her chest, "I got scared and ran."

He pulled her hands into his own. He kissed her knuckles. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Vicky's shower was too small for even two of them to occupy, but Brian brought her a clean set of clothes and Damien found quilts stashed in her closet. The three of them wordlessly laid together, she was sandwiched between Brian and Damien, like they were shields.

They weren't enough for Vicky to tear her eyes away from her door until she finally couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.


	5. We have come like stormwinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oz and Zoe discover the meaning of Oz's premonitions, and Vicky makes a fatal mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs for violence, gore, drug use, & smut.

Zoe was kind enough to have brought Oz to one of her many dimensions of horror outside of time so they were able to brainstorm on Oz’s premonitions. The gurgle of lava or lungs filled with blood came with the slight breeze through the crooked window and Fear twitched hungrily from the volatile energy secreted by one of Zoe’s many homes.

A whiteboard materialized before them. “Let’s make this simple,” said Zoe, “you’re going to tell me every minute detail of your premonitions, and we’re gonna make a map of everything we can think of that connects to the details. Start with the first one.”

“I was watching myself wrap kilos of cocaine, but it looked like I was looking through a camera in my chest. When I looked up, I was staring down the barrel of a rifle. Someone screamed don’t move or something along those lines, I saw a flash, and then got a headache.”

“Okay, and the second one?”

“Well, there was blood and soot coming out of my fingers, my index fingers were bent backward, I saw blood and brains kind of floating around like soap bubbles. I started to fall forever. There were bright blue snakes in my eyes, as vivid as gems. I landed in a vat of bloodshed and lightning.”

“That is… that is intense.” Zoe finished her list on the whiteboard. 

“Let’s start simple," Oz said. "The only person I can think would end up in a coke lab in any capacity is Brian. He’s got substance abuse issues. I know people say is pick of poison is alcohol, but I don’t see why he won’t escalate.”

“That’s a good start. Let’s take this into consideration, though: who could be on the other side of the gun?”

Oz shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest.”

“Oz… you think too highly of our friends,” Zoe scolded him. “I can think of several. Damien is wantonly violent. Vera and Vicky are regularly doing heists. Miranda has constant feuds with everyone under the sun. Polly will do anything for some drugs. God, there are so many fucked up folks at our school, I could go on and on.”

“Fair enough.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’m… I’m not sure. Raiding one of these places isn’t in anyone’s modus operandi. Maybe Polly for shits and giggles, but she would’ve told us something, don’t you think?”

“I do. That’s the most we can do for now. Instead of getting our shit in a bunch, let’s move on.”

“The snakes kind of remind me of Vera. I’m not sure why else there would be snakes in my eyes.”

“That’s a good start. Why would they be blue?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, when you think of blue, what do you think of?”

“Depression, rain, the ocean, storms, the sky. Brian since he’s always depressed. Dahlia is literally blue. Aren’t Vicky’s and Faith’s favorite color blue?”

“Yes, good. What about the lightning you saw?” 

“I mean… Vicky electrocutes herself for giggles. I think Calculester and Vera listen to thunderstorms to help them sleep.”

“Fantastic. What about blood?”

“Damien’s a demon. He’s constantly covered in it.”

“Great, great, great. This is enough for us to start with. Why don’t you call Vicky, Vera, and Dahlia? I’ll tackle everyone else we brought up.”

“Can do.”

Zoe’s nightmare dimension evaporated. They were back in his apartment, where Oz picked up his phone and dialed for Vicky. It went straight to voicemail. She must have been busy, but it made his stomach churn. He tried Vera next and she too didn’t pick up. Oz knew Amira kept tabs on Vera, though. He called Amira.

“Hello?” Amira grunted.

“Hi, Amira. I know it’s late but I need to talk to you about Vera.

Amira cussed in the background. "One second," he grumbled as he rummaged around. "You're Gucci. Is everything okay?'

"I don't know." Oz sighed. "Okay, suspend your disbelief for a minute. I've had a couple of premonitions lately. First I had a premonition about someone getting shot in a coke lab. Do you know anyone who’d be involved in any way with coke?”

“Yeah. Vera has a drug trade.” He hummed. “Come to think of it, I overheard Vera talking with Vicky about robbing a lab.” 

Oz’s chest constricted. The likelihood one of his friends would have been murdered dropped, and while he wasn't particularly disturbed by the idea of murder, the chance of Vera and Vicky shooting a hardened criminal with buddies didn't put him at ease. “Is she with you?”

“She’s not.”

“I need you to text her to call me as soon as she can, Amira. I-I know I’m kind of being a dick, but this is important.”

“You’re fine, Oz. I’ll get in touch with her as soon as I can.” 

“Thank you so much. Text me as soon as you can.”

“I will. Bye, Oz.”

Oz hung up on Amira and then dialed for Dahlia. Her phone went to voicemail. "Fuck!" he cursed as he threw his phone. It shattered and scattered across the floor like ceramic. Oz felt sicker and sicker, like something greater than themselves, Zoe and Oz, who were gods in their own right, incapable to turn the tides of something awful in motion.

Zoe hugged Oz. "Did she not pick up?"

"She didn't." He rubbed his face. "God, this is going in disaster."

“Look. We have a lead with Vera and Vicky. Let’s get some rest, baby.”

Zoe was right. Oz let her drag him into her bedroom where they were swallowed by a toothy maw made from red hot metal. Zoe dove onto Oz seconds before the universe vanished.

\---

Vicky woke to her alarm with a sense of unease, like Eugene’s fingers were still in her hair, like his lips were on her cheek. The shadows were dodgy. Eugene’s phantom only felt more real when she only had two hours of sleep under her belt.

Shakily, Vicky dressed in leggings, a tee, and sneakers. Vera was outside of her apartment in a ratty, old SUV with her chauffeur. 

“Morning. Are you ready?”

“No. I hardly slept last night. I need some coke so I can stop feeling like I’m running on fumes.”

“That’s not good. Here, just don’t overdo it.” Vera passed Vicky a partially unwrapped kilo of cocaine. Vicky gently scooped some onto her fingertips and quietly snorted.

There was only a second before she absorbed the coke. When it hit her brain, she felt great, better than the last couple of days treated her, at least. Like she was a big dragon atop a horde of warm gold coins and dispatched a platoon of pitiful knights with a swoop of her tail. She felt big enough to have swallowed Eugene and Stan whole as if they were no bigger than a grain of rice.

She sniffed. Her nose was a little runny. “That’s better. Where’s the body armor?”

Vera dropped a pile of heavy kevlar onto Vicky’s lap. She donned pads and a vest and a thick helmet. She attached two assault rifles to her vest and many magazines to her legs. She whooped as they turned, Vera slapped her back.

“You fucking ready?”

“I’m so fucking ready!”

They stopped. Vicky and Vera stormed.

Vicky kicked down the door and shot the coffee table. “Get on the fucking ground! Put your fucking hands up!” she screamed 

“Fuck!” The three men and two women in the room hit the deck. Vera threw a jammer onto a shelf and secured the denizens with zip ties. She frisked them down and dumped their guns into her duffle bag. 

“Who else is here?” Vera demanded.

“There are two more in the basement! They’re just kids, don’t hurt them, " begged a ghoul.

“We want your money and your drugs. Don’t move, and y’all will live,” Vicky said.

“If you take everything, we’ll be killed!” said a vampire.

Vicky slapped the talker with one of her rifles. “You’ve got me to worry about first! Shut the fuck up or I’ll blow your fucking brains everywhere! Have I made myself clear?”

The vampire nodded.

“How many guns are stashed here?”

“You gonna clean us out?” the vampire asked.

“I asked you how many guns are here! Do you want me to blow off your dick?”

“Let him go,” the ghoul implored, “he’s a dumbass kid. There are twelve guns. Two under the table, one behind the door, one in the bathroom, three in the kitchen, two behind the couch, and the rest were on our person."

“You get that?” Vicky shouted.

“Yeah! Just keep them busy!”

Vicky heard a snap. The young vampire, freed of the zip ties, charged her. She kicked him down and shot him in the chest, but she was tackled not a second later by the ghoul with a hunting knife in hand. He was only kept at bay thanks to her rifle barrel lodged against his neck. Vicky pulled the trigger. His disembodied head collided with Vicky’s, she shrieked something ungodly in her disgust and hopped to her feet.

“Fuck, bag what you got. We gotta go!”

Vera ran up the stairs and then they wildly shot into the living room as they escaped. They fell into the getaway car and sped away.

There were a few seconds, the longest seconds of Vicky’s life, where Vera and Vicky huddled on the seat as their chests heaved.

Vicky had shot someone.

It wasn’t the first time she hurt someone. When people got feisty during their heists, she shot them in the hand or foot, she even kicked some. But she killed one, possibly two people. She felt sick, even though her haze of coke. 

“Did we get anything?” Vicky asked.

Vera howled with delight. “We got so much fucking money!” She opened her bag for Vicky to peer inside. “This was all just on a table down there. They had a bunch of kids counting it! I got three kilos on top of that. God, there’s gotta be at least half a million dollars in here alone. Baby, we are rich as fuck!”

Vicky’s eyes bugged out of her head. She eventually broke into a grin so enormous it made her face hurt. “Oh my god! We are fucking rich!”

“We’re in it now, baby!” Vera held her face and they hopped in place. “Oh my god, you’re amazing, you crazy bitch. I love you so fucking much! We’re set for at least another month.”

“You can go a month without doing this again?”

“Fuck no!”

Vicky couldn’t help but be intoxicated by the money and Vera’s own elation. There was just a learning curve, she told herself, she would catch up.

\---

Oz woke and he was stiffer than rigor mortis and it felt like he was knifed in the lung. It made him crabby. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, and groggily surveyed his surroundings. Normally, Oz was a pacifist, but he sincerely wanted to wring the neck of whoever thought it was a good idea to kidnap him and Zoe.

When Oz looked down, his chest ache made sense. He was skewered by an oily black rod that reflected red light by the candles above them.

“Zoe!” he rasped. “Baby, where are you?”

“Fuck, stop screaming. I’m right behind you. God, my head is splitting, there’s something in my chest too, " she said. Her voice came from behind him. They were tired back to back.

“I think it’s the same thing in my chest,” he replied. “What the hell happened back there?”

“I don’t fucking know. I think we got swallowed by… by magic, or something like us. We have a lot of enemies. It could be one of them,” Zoe hypothesized. “That doesn’t matter now, though. We have to get out of here. Can you move?”

“If any of you so much as twitch, we won’t only kill Vicky, we’ll kill all your friends.”

Oz recognized that voice and it made his guts churn with horror. He craned his head over his shoulder to try to look at Dahlia. “Oh my God, Dahlia, what the hell have you done?" If the Aquino family was after Vicky, that had to have meant a declaration of war against the LaVey. "Dahlia, you're a fool! If you kill Vicky, you're going to bring the wrath of the LaVey family down on the heads of yourself and your loved ones. You will all be slaughtered!"

“Oz, shut up!” Zoe snapped. “Dahlia, look, I know you’ve got beef with the LaVey, but you can’t do this. The entire eighth circle of Hell will come for your ass if you kill Vicky. They won’t be merciful and you know that! Don't throw your life away like this. Pull out of this while you still can.”

Dahlia threw a chair. It exploded on the stone wall across from Oz. “No! The LaVey had this coming for a long time now, Zoe, and if the two of you had just kept to yourselves, we wouldn’t have had to imprison you.”

“Fuck!” Oz screamed. “Vicky hasn’t done anything!”

“She has! She fucked Damien, and now we’re gonna kill her and use her to fuck over Damien.”

“You are sick!” he bellowed. “Dahlia, I will kill you if you lay a hand on any of our friends!”

“Oz, shut up!”

“You two are cute. The thing is, with that spear in your chest, you’re virtually powerless.”

It dawned on Oz the spear was the reason Zoe told him to shut up. She wanted to create a distraction so he could pull it out since it would’ve been less obvious if he did it thanks to his position behind her. God, she was so much smarter than he was.

“Fuck, Zoe, talk some sense into Dahlia.”

“Dahlia. I know what you’re going through,” Zoe said, as Fear crept its inky appendage to wrap around the hilt of the spear. “I was needed to create chaos for eons. It was the only way I felt loved and accepted. But you deserve better than this! There are hundreds of wonderful traits to your name that you can make something out of yourself with. You don’t have to be-”

Zoe screamed. It sounded like the cry of seagulls and whales. Extremely pained, so much so, even Fear faltered.

“Zoe!” Oz screamed, “Zoe, what’s wrong?”

Dahlia skirted around their seats and smiled at Oz. “I cut off your girlfriend’s arm. If you try to escape before we kill Vicky, I’ll be cutting off more than just an arm. The next one is that big ol’ eye she's got.”

Oz never hated anyone before that moment. He glared at Vicky with vitriol that made his inky skin simmer.

"As soon as I'm out, I will make you wish you only had the LaVey to worry about, " Oz promised. "There's no coming back for you, Dahlia. I'm going to kill you."

Dahlia didn't reply. She only left them in the dark.

\---

Vera and Vicky counted their winnings that afternoon. They took three hundred grand from the lab, and the kilos they took would have sold for another four hundred fifty grand. They were almost a million dollars richer. It was almost enough for Vicky to spend the rest of her life in retirement.

And Vicky stayed high. Vera gave her the coke out of her car. Vicky refused to come down.

To celebrate, Vicky took Vera and her suitor Amira, Liam, and her boyfriends out to party. She was only a quarter of the way through an expensive bottle of whiskey and as terribly as she danced, she felt like she ruled the dance floor, intoxicated by coke, booze, and the bass-heavy music that blasted from the speakers overhead. The way Damien and Brian sandwiched her, with their hands on her hips and in her hair, simply overjoyed Vicky. It was almost like she hadn't murdered someone hours ago.

When the bartender presented her with a three thousand dollar bottle of whiskey tied with a boy. Vera and Vicky were showered with confetti from party poppers as Liam took a photo.

Brian wrapped his arm around Vicky. He reached behind them for a glass and held them in place as Vicky poured generous servings for everyone.

"To the splendid duo!" Liam cheered. They toasted, and Vicky was surrounded by friends and loved ones. She hardly felt ill even as the image of their head falling onto her flashed before her eyes for a brief moment.

Vera was dragged into the dancefloor by Amira and Damien was off to create mayhem. Brian, Liam, and Vicky were left at the bar.

"It's a little weird celebrating robbery," Liam remarked. "Don't get me wrong, there's worse, but it is a little weird."

"It is. I shot two people today, and I killed at least one. I think this is Vera's way of trying to help me feel better." Vicky hopped up onto a stool and slowly sipped her whiskey. She felt Brian and Liam burn holes into her head with their eyes alone.

"Babe…" Brian mumbled, "are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Vicky, take this seriously," Liam scolded her. "We're worried about you. You killed someone today. I mean, that in and of itself is super fucked up, but you're my friend so I'm willing to overlook the legal repercussions for your wellbeing."

Vicky felt sick. "I'm… processing it, I suppose. It's kind of surreal. Vera says I would've died if I didn't kill them, and she's absolutely right, but… I don't know. Killing someone is different than what I thought it would be like. It's dreamlike. Like I'm looking into a box replaying the whole thing."

Liam pensively took a drink. "It's definitely not what anyone expects."

"You say that like you've killed someone too," Brian said.

"I'm four hundred years old. Of course, I've killed a couple people." Liam brushed his hair back. "All I can really say is time dulls the feeling. You'll learn to cope."

Vicky thought she coped pretty well before Liam decided to pry into her business, but she kept that to herself. She took the whiskey bottle and Brian onto the dance floor instead. Damien jogged over to them. They drank and danced.

“You,” Damien teased as he impolitely pried her whiskey out of her hands, “are beautiful in this lighting.” He took an impressive swig, held her chin, and kissed her. Whiskey drowned her mouth like arousal drowned the junction between her legs.

“Fuck,” she groaned. She kissed Damien’s neck, and then Brian’s behind her. “Let’s go to the bathroom for a quickie,” she whispered.

Brian and Damien never protested as she dragged them into the handicap stall.

Damien shoved Vicky against the wall. He sunk to his knees and pushed her pants and underwear around her ankles. His tongue slipped between her legs. Brian held her by her neck and kissed her. He played with her breasts through her blouse, and clumsily, thanks to all the booze and coke in her system, she slipped his cock out and stroked him.

Brian proved needy, however. Not long into their foreplay, he grumbled for Damien to move, he pulled her shirt over her head and then kissed her when he tossed it onto the floor. She was perfectly content to allow him to ravage her. As he fumbled with her bra, she kissed him and help his biceps with her hands. He grabbed her by her wrists and held them above her head. With a giggle, Vicky wrapped her legs around his hips.

He slammed himself inside her. Vicky adored it. He wanted her so badly. She must have been so pretty in the fluorescent light, with the way he stared into her eyes and wordlessly grunted. He tucked his face into her shoulder. He gnawed on her bolts. Electricity coursed through him and it made him quiver inside of her.

“Please fuck me harder,” she pleaded, “I need it so badly.”

Brian pulled himself out. Vicky protested until she was flipped around and bent over. He reentered her and rode her furiously. When Vicky looked over her shoulder, Damien poked her mouth with the head of his cock. She happily swallowed him, albeit clumsily between her inebriation and Brian’s roughness making her whole frame shake like a house shook in an earthquake. They shook her entire world.

Brian became sloppy. Damien pulled him out and they switched positions. He backed her up so Brian could fit between her face and the wall. She pulled him into her mouth, so deep she choked. Nonetheless, she happily bobbed with Damien as much as she could. Brian stroked her hair. He groaned and not seconds later, he came into her throat. She must have been so pretty, the way he slipped down the wall as Damien finished her off. Cum dripped down her chin as she came with Damien. She gurgled. Her legs shook as she was filled and filled.

Damien pulled himself out of her pussy. Brian passed him a wad of toilet paper to wipe up the mess. Brian pushed himself to his feet and held Vicky.

A knock came from their stall door and Vicky yelped.

“If you guys are finished in there, I’d kind of like to have a dance with my business partner, " Vera said.

“Oh shit,” Damien grumbled. 

"I'll be out in a second!" Vicky replied. The three of them fixed their clothes and Vicky tumbled out with a sheepish smile. Vera was as uncharmed as she was drunk.

“Come on, let’s get you some dignity back.”

“I better be your favorite slut, at least,” Vicky said. That made Vera laugh.

Vicky was pulled back onto the dance floor. Amira handed her a drink with Kahlua and orange bitters before they took her into their sweet, sapphic arms. Vicky loved having girls for friends. 

“You were amazing today!” Vera said. “I can’t fucking believe how much we got!”

“I shot someone. The cops are gonna be on our ass if they don’t have friends.”

“Yeah, but they would've cut your throat if you didn't do something. I’m glad you’re okay, and you know I’ll help with anything if you get in trouble. A lawyer, maybe some assassinations if we can’t rig the trial.” Vera laid their foreheads together. “Vicky, you’re my best friend. You and I have done so much together. I want you in my life forever. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Vicky grinned. “Like sisters?”

“Like sisters, honey. Like I want to plan your wedding with you and all that gross, lovey-dovey shit.”

“I want that too. I want you in my life forever, Vera,” Vicky confessed. She hugged Vera as they swayed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Crash and burn. But that’s not important because I’m here now. I’ll be here forever.”

“Me too,” Vicky said.

She felt okay. The sickness from her murder was still heavy, but Vera held her like family, and that was comforting.


	6. The love, lead, and the undead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their worst nightmares come to fruition.  
CWs for drug use, gore, major character death, & violence

Vicky had a headache the size of Manhattan and not even dope eased the rumble of her head.

“I’m dying,” she announced as she pushed a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses up the bridge of her stupidly tiny nose. “Why the fuck did you guys let me drink so much? I mean, that whiskey was expensive so I wanted to make sure we finished that, but I had six other drinks on top of it.”

“Because we were less than sober ourselves, and I, for one, wanted to see how much you could drink before you absolutely couldn’t walk.”

“Fuck you, Brian.”

“You did that at least twice. I was there,” Damien said.

“Damien. Unless the next words out of your mouth magically make my headache go away, I will carve out my colon and floss your teeth with it.”

Vicky tossed her joint out of the window when the school came into view. Brian parked and she tumbled out of the car. He was sweet enough to massage her neck at least.

Immediately, the trio was bombarded by Scott. Vicky wasn’t made with cat reflexes, so while her boyfriends deftly stepped out of reach, she was squashed in his huge arms and chest. Her arms laid by her side. At least if she suffocated, her head wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Vicky! Vera told me all about how awesome you were yesterday. You’re so awesome!” Scott cheered.

“Scott, I think you’re hurting her.”

Scott dropped her. Vicky involuntarily gasped for air. Nonetheless, she peered around Scott and beamed when she laid eyes on Blobert. 

“Hey there, buddy!” Brian chirped. He strode over with uncharacteristic charm and hugged Blobert. Vicky was kind of jealous he got to hug Blobert first. “How’s it going? We missed you at the game.”

“I’m sorry. Stocking’s water broke at the shelter, so I stayed to help deliver her kitties.”

“Oh my god, do you have pictures of them?”

“I do! I’ll text them to you later today. I have something for Vicky, however.”

Vicky blinked. “For me? Why?”

“Forgive me for prying, Vicky, but I saw you running away from school the other day. Valerie told me what happened… the business concerning your uncle. I know there isn’t anything I can do to heal what he has done to you, but I hope you understand that you are loved, and I know for a fact you have many friends who will protect you.” Blobert pressed a card into her hand. “I know this isn’t much, but I hope it will remind you that you have many people who love you and will never hurt you.”

Vicky leaped onto Blobert and squeezed him. “Thank you, Blobert, you’re an amazing friend. My uncle was… an awful man, but you’re right. I have a family here with all of you. There’s nothing more I want.” Aside from more painkillers for her head.

“Anyways, I should get going. I have a quiz today. I’ll catch you guys around.”

“Bye, Blobert.”

Scott resumed squeezing Vicky. “I’m sorry I took your arm off the other day. I was so scared! You were running and screaming and I got scared, so I grabbed you. I guess I don’t know my strength.”

Vicky felt awful. She hurt Scott in her tizzy to escape, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. “It wasn’t your fault. My arm fell off because I ripped open my stitches to get away,” she explained. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Her head felt like it imploded. The Christmas she kissed Liam flashed before her eyes.

\---

Oz exuded goo. Fear wheezed and whined. His head was lolled against Zoe’s shoulder as he breathed raspily, and his hair had seeped down into her lap like candle wax. It was so hard for him to keep his shape when the spear sucked out his power like soft marrow.

“Baby?” Zoe said hoarsely. Her tentacles were dry. “Are you still with me?”

“Barely,” he mumbled.

“I have an idea how to get out,” she said. Oz hummed quizzically. “You probably won’t like it.”

“Can it be any worse than this?”

“Is the spearhead on your side?” Zoe asked.

Oz lifted his head. The tip of the spear was shaped like a spade from a deck of cards. He gave a resigned sigh. There were worse fates than having that ripped through his chest, like Vicky's death. “It is. It’s pretty wide, though, so we’ll need to pull hard.”

“What? No, Oz, I need it to pick our cuffs. You’re going to have to break it off.

He was relieved. “Can you pull it closer? Slowly, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Zoe grunted. He heard her tentacles and teeth grip it. Slowly, with enormous strain, she pulled it closer. He hissed between his teeth. Every inch it was dragged through him burned from his collar to the bottom of his ribcage. 

“Are you okay?” Zoe asked tearfully.

“Keep going, just a couple more inches,” he whined. "One more pull, baby.” 

Zoe gave one last heave and the spade was close enough to touch his chest. “You’re good. Lean as far forward as you can.”

Oz’s goo shuddered. He tensed it around the rod inside of his chest to cut it off, free himself, and then pick them free without the cumbersome spear in the way. He was too weak to shear it off, however. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” he wept. “I’m so sorry.”

“I said you won’t like this. Forgive me, Oz.”

The mouth at the top of Zoe’s head opened and it siphoned the sanity from the denizens outside. Terror flooded the dungeon.

Oz's vision blurred as it seeped into his skin like poison. It rattled his bones like glass in a hurricane. A scream ripped from the mouths of Oz's phobias. They writhed and bucked and howled. Individual phobias ballooned with teeth, their eyes glowed with menace. It was worse than the spear, how his body grew and thrashed of its own accord. 

The spear snapped in two with a crack like thunder when clubbed by one of his incarnations. Zoe closed her mouth, Oz fell to the floor and coughed up spongy bits of Fear. 

"Oz!" Zoe screamed with fright. Freed of the spear, she unlocked their chains. “Are you okay?” she bawled. “I’m so sorry, Oz, I didn’t know what else to do.”

He grunted, “I’m fine, but Vicky needs our help. Let’s get the hell out of here before the guards find out! I don't think I can fend them off if we're discovered!”

Zoe opened a portal into the overworld.

\---

Brian heard gunfire for the very first time when he was fifteen. It kind of sounded like it did in Hollywood, but at the same time, it didn't. Gunfire wasn’t like a bomb or firecrackers. It sounded more like an engine backfired next to a bullhorn. It was so indistinct, Brian's entire body tensed for a split second whenever he heard something similar.

However, over the last six years, it became a knee jerk reaction since those pops never turned out to be gunshots again, and he calmed down as quickly as he freaked out. 

It wasn't until Scott and Vicky dropped like stones and their blood pooled around them like macabre halos that Brian's fears were confirmed. The screaming of his classmates hit his ear like a bat to the side of his face and he hit the deck and shook uncontrollably. His friends and lover bled out only two feet away, and yet he couldn't even move to stem the bleeding or call emergency services.

"Vicky? Scott? Oh my god," Brian croaked. Scott gurgled on the other side of Vicky. Terror had frozen him in place. Brian loathed himself for his weakness, but even as he scolded himself with the most scathing remarks, his body refused to budge. "Somebody help us! Please!"

Above Brian, a cyclonic portal opened, and Oz and Zoe, albeit bedraggled, hopped onto the sidewalk next to Brian's head.

"Oh my god!" Oz screamed in horror. He and Zoe crouched next to Scott and Vicky.

"Go! Damien is gone, he could be hurt. I'll take care of Scott," Zoe said.

"Brian, where's Damien?" Oz asked.

"I don't know," Brian said, "I think he ran after the shooters, but I don't know where they went."

Nonetheless, Oz took off.

"Brian, I need your help," Zoe said.

"I-I can't."

"They're gone. Scott needs help, or he's going to bleed to death."

Brian shook his head. "I can't. I can't look at her."

Zoe threw her jacket over Vicky's head. "There. I know you're in pain, Brian, but Scott is dying. I need your help. Please, come here."

Shakily, Brian pushed himself onto all fours and crawled over to Zoe and Scott. He gagged and swallowed bile. Bits of Vicky's brain and hair were splattered onto Scott's face, and he gurgled as he feebly pressed his paw against his torn carotid.

"Focus on me," Zoe said. "What's your blood type?"

"O-positive," he replied.

"Excellent. This is going to hurt, but this is the only thing that's going to save Scott."

Brian nodded. Zoe plunged her tentacles into Brian's neck.

\---

Vicky's head sprayed over Scott. Damien had fired enough guns to have instantly understood what had happened.

He took after the black car behind them that squealed away from campus. Damien wasn't anything extraordinary, but the second of Vicky's murder, his unbridled rage pushed him harder than ever before.

Damien gained on the car even as it accelerated upwards of sixty miles an hour. Damien threw himself onto the trunk, and to throw him off, the driver spun the car and they careened into power lines. Damien howled when he collided with solid wood. The splintered pole creaked and he realized it tipped over like a tree.

He managed to push himself free right as the cables ripped. Electricity crackled, the live cables writhed like beheaded snakes, sparks flew in every direction. 

Damien stormed to the driver’s seat. Every inch of him burned with unbridled homicidal rage palpable enough that the air around him shuddered with heatwaves. He grabbed the driver, a yellow manticore, by their collar and threw them onto the live powerlines. They combusted without a sound.

Finally, he pulled the passenger, a young vampire, into the street. They were unconscious and bled from their forehead. “Wake the fuck up!” Damien bellowed. He slapped them and they awoke with a yelp. “What’s your name?”

“What?” they asked.

“I asked for your fucking name!” Damien screamed.

“Fuck off!”

Damien pulled a knife from his waistband and held it against their throat. “Fine, did you shoot my girlfriend then?”

“I did!” the vampire spat with a vicious tone. “She killed my dad!”

“She had come so far! We were going to be happy together!”

“And I’ll never be happy without my dad!”

“This is your fault. Now I'm going to string you up by your fucking guts!"

Damien kicked the gun out of their hand as they reached for it. He sank his knife into their abdomen and pushed it down until it nicked their pubic bone. Damien pushed them back with a fistful of their intestines. They fell back with eyes as wide as dinner plates. Fruitlessly, they weakly stuffed their innards inside, before they fell limp.

He crouched over them as they breathed raspily. “This is the end. You messed with the wrong bitches.”

“Damien!” Oz screamed. Oz tackled Damien and they rolled across the asphalt. 

“Fuck!” Damien screamed as he pushed Oz off. “Get off! I’m going to kill them all!”

“She is gone and mutilating him,” Oz flung his hand to point at the dying vampire, “isn’t going to do jackshit. But Scott barely clinging to life. He needs his friends. Please, put this behind you for your friends.”

It was like Oz kicked the wind out of Damien. Rage subsided, and he began to cry.

Vicky was gone for the rest of his life: fodder for blowflies and worms.

\---

Zoe parked Brian's truck. They tumbled out and ran full speed into the Emergency Room. Vera stormed to the front desk. “We’re here for Scott Howl. I’m his Power of Attorney, Vera Oberlin.” 

“Miss Oberlin, we need you to fill out some paperwork for Mister Howl,” said the receptionist.

As Vera filled out paperwork, Oz had to help Damien and Brian into chairs next to each other. The pair looked miserable. Brian’s head was in his hands, Damien rubbed his mouth with a disconnected gaze. Yet as much as it pained Oz to see his friends like that, there were more imminent threats. He needed to warn the LaVey family of the Aquino’s plan for their demise.

He couldn’t tell Damien about their plan, though. He was already put through the wringer. He needed to get Damien’s parents into the equation. A manipulative tactic, but Oz reasoned that Damien needed their support anyway, so really, it helped everyone.

Oz kneeled in front of Brian and Damien and held their hands. "Damien, you need to call your dads. You need them now."

Damien nodded with glassy eyes. “Right,” he murmured before he dug through his pockets.

Zoe pulled Oz aside. “Please, for the love of whatever you hold sacred, tell me we’re not keeping the Aquino’s plan a secret. More people are going to be killed if we keep this on the DL, maybe Vicky will be hurt worse.”

“That’s why I reminded Damien to call his parents.

"Excellent."

Before Oz could reply, Blobert and Liam ran into the emergency room. Blobert sobbed inconsolably. Oz ran over to them.

"We came as soon as we heard about Scott," Liam said.

Oz hugged them. "Thank you."

"Is he going to be okay?" Blobert asked. He sounded so desperate, and somehow, despite Blobert's gelatinous nature, he gripped Oz's hands so hard he thought they might break.

"I don't know. He's in surgery now and we haven't heard any updates," Oz replied.

"What about Vicky?"

A hush fell over their group. Damien resumed crying, Brian escaped into the nearby bathroom. Oz couldn't look Blobert in the eye.

"I'm sorry, but she's dead," he told Blobert. 

"We believe Vicky was targeted by a gang she robbed the other day. Damien took care of the perps, but they got in a good shot. She's not coming back," Zoe said.

Valerie hopped the back of a chair squeezed Blobert as he sobbed. Oz waited by the doors where his cries were someone muffled.

He felt awful. He was too late. He was always too late.

Lucien and Stan ran inside as Oz internally berated himself. If only Vicky could see how many people loved her.

Oz stood. "Go comfort your son, but as soon as possible, I have an issue of utmost importance about your kingdom's security."

The two demon Kings looked between themselves. "I'll talk to him."

Oz took Lucien into an adjacent waiting room.

"Oz, correct?" Lucien asked. 

"Yes."

"What is this supposed security threat?"

"The Aquino family is behind Vicky's murder. I've been having premonitions about her death, so my girlfriend and I have been looking into it in hopes we save her. However, the Aquino caught on and kidnapped us. Dahlia explained to us that she and her family plan to use Vicky as a weapon against you, and more worrisome, Damien, to overthrow your rule," Oz explained.

Lucien rubbed his face with concern. "This is a dire accusation. This is something we go to war over."

"The Aquino already plan to do that. It seems you don't have a lot of options here," Oz countered.

"What proof do you have? How do I know I can trust you?"

"Vera and Vicky have robbed three dozen banks with CCTV, guards, and alarm systems, and never once have they been even suspected, and yet a lab, where they executed the same precautions, somehow figured out their identities and location, and then killed Vicky. Do you think that's coincidental?"

"... I see your point," Lucien replied. "This is… this is awful."

"Lucien, I understand it's a lot to take in, but we need to begin preparations as soon as possible. Do you have someone who can begin something, anything, while you're here to comfort your son?"

"I do. Thank you, Oz. I need to make a quick phone call, and then I'll come back."

"Of course. Thank you."

Oz returned to his friends and paced in the waiting room as they waited for news on Scott's condition. Some hours later, they were approached by the surgeon.

"I'm glad to announce Mister Howl survived the operation without any complications. He will need to stay overnight in case there are any hiccups with his blood transfusion, but we are optimistic about his prognosis. If you like, you may visit him."

They were guided into Scott's room. He was intubated and pale, but his vitals were stable and lively.

Oz breathed a sigh of relief. At least something had gone right that day.

\---

The morning of Vicky's funeral, Damien was stiff.

He rolled off of Brian and grunted as he made way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then eat something.

"Damien, why are you up already?"

Damien looked up to see Stan and Lucien in the doorway. Stan was still in pajamas, but Lucien was fully dressed. It was unusual for either of them to be even remotely dressed at that hour.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

Stan nervously glanced to Lucien.

"Unfortunately, there's an emergency on the outskirts I have to attend to," Lucien explained.

"You're the only one going?"

"Yes. But I should be back before the ceremony."

Damien grimly nodded. Border disputes weren't handled by either king. Perhaps the Minister of Border Land was out.

Stan sat at the island. "How do you feel?" he asked. Damien shrugged. He missed Vicky, but he said that every day since her death. "I wish I could do more. I do, Damien. I cared very much about Vicky as well."

Damien's lip wobbled and he wiped his eyes. He didn’t feel any different since the first day she died, but all that meant was he hurt like an open wound. 

“It feels wrong without her. The more I think about it, the more it hurts.”

“Yes, but she left pieces of her with you and Brian. I’m sure you remember how much she loved you,” Stan said. Damien nodded. “I know it’s not a lot, but she loved you so much, and that is something that will never die.”

Damien smiled at his dad. He appreciated the effort, but Stan’s reassurance didn’t change how badly he ached. Damien could only hope the funeral would soothe him.

\---

Brian woke up alone and it felt like the air was thin. He stumbled into the hallway, gasped for air, he tried to find Damien, but the LaVey’s basement suite was built like a surreal, inescapable nightmare where Brian was doomed to circle the hallway until his death. He braced himself against the wall and tried to convince himself to calm down so he could find a way out.

Voices came from beyond the door Brian was beside. He turned his gaze to watch it.

“Mugandr,” Lucien’s muffled snarl came, “exactly how is Vicky alive? Her head was blown to pieces.”

“Her body was, but her condemned soul remained intact.”

“Then we would have been notified of her entrance into Hell!”

“Your Majesty, please quiet down. I understand why this upsets you but our conversation may not be private.”

Lucien sighed. “Nonetheless, why weren’t we notified of her death and damnation?”

“It’s likely her soul was intercepted. I’ve looked into it and… Your Majesty, I’m sorry to tell you this, but Oz and Zoe were right, it is the Aquino family. I found correspondence with the drug manufacturers detailing who attacked them and where to find Vicky, and ingredients to summon the dead.”

Wood snapped inside of Lucien’s room. Brian slapped his hands over his mouth to stifle his yelp. “Unbelievable!” he bellowed. “Mugandr, summon Oz and Zoe to the Divinator’s Room immediately and keep this between the two of us.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Brian made a run for it before he was discovered. It felt like he swallowed molasses. Vicky was alive? What did Dahlia’s family want with her? Why did it have to be a secret? Why wouldn’t Oz and Zoe tell him if Vicky was alive?

He ran straight into Damien in his maelstrom of confusion. He was grabbed before he fell.

“Brian,” Damien said, “what’s wrong? You look like shit.”

Brian panted wordlessly before he threw his arms around Damien. He wished he was dreaming. He wanted to wake up with Damien and Vicky, safe and sound, where he didn’t feel like the world was crashing around him.

“Babe, what’s wrong? You’re freaking me out.”

Reluctantly, Brian whispered, “I think your dads are keeping secrets,” he said. “I think… I think Vicky’s death is bigger than we think it is.”

Damien pushed Brian out of the crook of his neck and scowled perplexedly. “What the fuck do you mean they’re keeping secrets?”

“I-I couldn’t find you, and then I overheard Lucien talking with this Mugandr guy about Vicky. They were saying stuff like they didn’t have any record about her entering Hell, and that Oz and Zoe knew about this, a-and the Aquino summoned her soul. He wanted to keep it a secret.”

“I’m sure it was just a bad dream.”

“Damien, listen to me!” Brian snapped. “Something’s wrong! This is bigger than we realize.”

Damien’s lip curled. “Get your head out of your ass, Brian! Vicky’s gone. She’s not coming back. And don’t you ever fucking say my dads are lying to me! They wouldn’t ever do that!”

“Listen, Damien,” Brian grabbed Damien’s shoulders. Damien knocked his hands away.

“Fuck off! You’re being a huge asshole right now, dude! Don’t fucking talk to me until you get your shit together.”

Damien stormed away. Brian was left breathless yet again.

\---

Damien stared into the mirror. His tuxedo felt ill-fit.

It was the tux he went to prom and homecoming in. He went to one of his aunt’s weddings in it too. All three occasions, Vicky was with him in that pretty polka-dot dress and a big smile. The mere memory was enough to make Damien tear up.

The only other time he got to wear it with Vicky was at her funeral. 

Stan entered his room. “Damien…” he said, “are you ready?”

“Dad, I don’t think I can do this.”

Damien’s father hugged him. “I know it’s hard. But Brian needs you, and you need this too. This ceremony will give you closure.”

He couldn’t meet Stan’s gaze. He couldn’t even return his father’s hug. What Brian mentioned about Vicky haunted him, even as he mourned. He tried to tell himself Brian only had a bad dream. His parents would never hide something as enormous as that from him.

“Let’s go,” Stan said. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be there for both of you.”

Damien’s heart fell into his gut. “What about Dad?”

“Lucien’s attending to a land dispute.”

“Still? That’s odd. I thought those were handled by the Minister of Borders.”

“Ordinarily. However, this involves the Aquino Family. Lucien’s there to make sure it’s addressed delicately.”

Damien felt sick as he followed Stan. His father was a terrible liar. Was Brian right about Vicky and his fathers? It had to be impossible, yet the events of the last couple of hours begged to differ.

\---

Oz held Zoe’s hand as they ran. Her dress was hiked up to her crotch as they ran up and up the tower. “I cannot believe he’s doing this now of all times!” Oz screamed. “The funeral is in two hours.”

“We’ll be fine, Oz. Lucien won’t miss his son’s girlfriend’s fucking funeral,” said Zoe as they stormed up the weathered stone steps.

When they reached the top, Zoe knocked upon the heavy door. It opened and they were heaved inside and surrounded by the smoke of Biggleworts to ward off the prying eyes of magic. Oz took a deep breath.

“I’m glad you two have come,” Lucien said. He gestured to the bony creature with the skull of a snake. “That is Mungandr, my most trusted associate.”

“I don’t care. Just make this quick, I would like to comfort my friends,” Oz said.

“I’m sure you’d like Vicky back more.”

“You found her?” Oz gasped.

“Yes and no. We know she is in the care of the Aquino,” Lucien explained. Oz wanted to break something. “We need you to find her and bring her back. You’ll have Mungandr to help. His magic will prove useful.”

Oz looked to Zoe.

“You need to go,” she said to him. “I will stay for Brian and Damien, but you need to go save Vicky.”

He nodded. “Apologize to our friends for me.”

“I will. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

Oz cupped Zoe’s face. “I’ll come back to you with Vicky. I promise you.”


	7. What left unshed after the bloodbath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the day of Vicky's funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs funerals.
> 
> I am largely unsatisfied with this chapter which is part of the reason it took so long for me to put it up. Otherwise, I work retail & I was scheduled ungodly hours to deal with Thanksgiving and Black Friday, & I got a hell of a stomach bug so I wasn't really in the mood for revisions.
> 
> I will be taking a break for a couple weeks. I have a lot of projects I'm working on for the holiday season. I will post the next chapter on the 16th or 17th.

Stan guided Brian and Damien into the overworld. Brian drove them to the mortuary and none of them so much as uttered a word. Damien was preoccupied with what Brian told him before they left: by the conversation between Lucien and Mugandr, about Vicky’s soul. She had done more than enough to warrant damnation.

Damien had met Mugandr before. He was quite a terrible creature. Although seeming loyal to them, it was fearsome to know Mugandr was able to single-handedly create the carnage Damien only enviously dreamt of.

More importantly, Damien was preoccupied with why his parents chose to keep something so… important a secret. It had to be a lie or a dream, but why would Brian have lied? And he was wide awake, it couldn’t have been a dream! The more Damien contemplated it, he became increasingly horrified. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want Vicky, sweet Vicky, 

He should have checked the big book before they left. He wanted to see Vicky’s alleged fate for himself.

Alleged. Damien made himself laugh wryly. He wondered if Vicky was ever lectured over that.

They parked behind the mortuary. Inside, they were met by a creature with a bulbous jaw and cloudy, albeit kind eyes. “Your Majesty, Prince Damien, Mister Yu, welcome. My name is Jamison. I’m the director here.”

“Jamison, it’s a pleasure finally meeting you. Lucien has told me so many things about you.”

“Your Majesty, your husband saved me and my family many years ago, long before you left your family. I owe him my life. Preparing your daughter-in-law’s funeral is the very least I can do for your family.”

“We’re not… we’re not married,” Damien remarked.

“I trust these are your sons,” Jamison said. He took Brian’s and Damien’s hands into his own. “Mister Yu, Prince Damien, I’m so sorry for your loss. She was a loving woman. I saw it in her eyes. I see it in your eyes. Wherever she is, I hope she finds peace. I hope you find peace as well, dear boys.”

Damien smiled joylessly. Jamison must have been an empath. “Thank you.” He hadn’t the energy to bully the creature.

“The body is prepared. We have taken her into the viewing room if you like to visit her,” Jamison said. He led them into the viewing room. After rows of pews like a chapel, there was Vicky’s grey casket. Even from the other side of the room, he saw strands of Vicky’s hair from the top of the casket. Damien’s knees locked up.

Brian took a step forward and stopped when he realized Damien couldn’t move. “Please,” Brian whispered, “I need you.”

Damien reluctantly nodded. He followed Brian to the casket where Vicky was laid in a nest of her beautiful hair and a satin dress. It wasn’t the same, though. Her eyes were sunken. Her lips were pale.

Brian kissed her forehead. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

“Damien, Brian,” Stan said, “do you have anything to say to Vicky?”

He wanted to shake his father. He wanted to scream at Stan until he was told the truth about Vicky. Instead, he only shook his head.

They sat. He couldn’t bear to look at her casket any longer. As Damien stared at his shoes, people trickled inside, and his father thanked them for their kind words Damien was deafened to. He didn’t want kind words. He wanted their situation to make sense. He wanted Vicky back. He wanted to hope that his fathers hadn’t hidden Vicky’s fate from him.

Liam sat behind Damien and clasped his shoulder. “You look like you spent the last couple of nights sleeping on stone.”

“I’m tired,” Damien replied quietly. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since she was killed.”

“I’m still processing all this myself. But Vicky loved us. She loved you guys.”

The constant reminder made Damien ache as if he failed Vicky. As if he should have shoved her out of the way. As if he could have talked her out of robbing a lab.

“Is Vera coming?”

“Yes. She’s coming with Amira and Valerie. Blobert texted me earlier, he should be here soon.”

“What about Oz and Zoe?” Brian asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from either of them today.”

Oz and Zoe wouldn’t have bailed out on Vicky’s funeral. They wouldn’t have dropped off the planet, either, not when Brian, who was one of their best friends, just suffered such an enormous loss. The whole thing felt like a conspiracy. It only confirmed what Brian said. It gave Damien the chills. Why else would they, as well as his father Lucien, not be there?

Later, the Oberlin girls approached the body. Vera rarely faltered, but she faltered that moment, and Valerie had to take her to their seats. When Blobert came, he sobbed against Vicky’s shirt. Damien only felt hollow when he was hugged. Blobert felt cold like Vicky. 

Jamison mounted the podium. “Good morning, loved ones of Missus Vicky.” They weren’t fucking married. It cut Damien to the bone. He loved her like they were husband and wife, yet they were so many only-s Damien hadn’t realized before then. They were only dating, only together for a week, only children. It cut Damien deeply enough he began to cry there. “I am gladdened to see so many of you partook in Vicky’s rich and wonderful life. I will waste no time giving the stage to Missus Vicky’s loved ones. After eulogies from His Majesty Stan LaVey, Vera Oberlin, and Liam de Lioncourt, we will continue into the parlor.”

Stan strode to the podium. "Hello, all. Thank you for coming."

"I didn't know Vicky for long, but what I did know was that she was incredibly loving and she spent every minute possible with the people she loved. My son Damien has regaled myself and my husband with many tales of his friendship with Vicky, and ever since he got together with her and Brian, he's been the happiest he's ever been."

“I will miss Vicky’s softness. My son told me how she enjoyed the rush of violence, but he told me about how much she cared for her friends. She stayed with him when he felt down, he forgave him for his wrongdoings. She stood up to terrible, bigoted people to defend her friends. Given the opportunity, I know she would have made a fantastic warrior and ally. I know she was for all her loved ones, and I know she will be forever missed.”

It was moving, and somehow, it felt like a lie too. Nonetheless, after Stan sat, Vera replaced him. Her cheeks were wet.

“I’m not one for speeches. I’ve spent two days since Vicky was pronounced dead to come up with something to no avail. But I have to do this because Vicky was like a sister to me. Neither of us had families. Her’s had their flaws, and until my father took me in, I didn’t have anyone. You scrounge for anything when there’s a hole like that. In a lot of ways, Vicky filled that hole with my sister and father.”

“Vicky became my best friend. She was fun. Unpredictable, passionate, it made for a lot of insane stories. We became close and then became business partners. Before I knew it, most of my world was the two of us. It was me, Papa, Valerie, and Vicky, all of us together.”

“I haven’t been able to stop crying since she died. I cried this morning, I cried all the way here. I can hardly keep it together now. I can’t help but feel like I didn’t tell her how much I loved her as much as I should have. What I would have done to keep her safe and happy. I’m sad without her, but I try to think about how I would want her to feel if I had died instead…. I’d want her to grieve in her way, with loved ones, and I’d want her to be happy.”

Vera escaped off the podium, tearful before she sat so hard the wooden bench groaned.

Damien felt kind of numb. After his father’s speech, everything seemed like a lie. Vera was Vicky’s best friend, but Damien still wanted to turn around and tear Vera’s head off so she wouldn’t act like she hadn’t treated Vicky like a tool.

Damien was a pretty terrible friend.

Liam had taken the stand. He said some things or another, and he played a video where Vicky was perched on top of a ramp wearing knee pads and a helmet, she howled as they rode down the curve, and then stood and played with her hair as the ocean lapped at her ankles and the sun tinted her cheeks.

Vicky fell on the ramp. The sun sank behind the ocean.

Vicky fell onto the sidewalk. Her casket sank below the earth. Damien wanted to sink with her.

\---

Brian ached the entire procession. His eyes, his chest, his knees. Like he crawled mile after mile to weep before her casket. But nothing came from his body, no tears, no whimpers. He couldn't even bleed those days because his blood was a net of coagulation like mucus between his fingers.

But Damien howled like a hound with his head buried in Brian's shoulder. He clutched Brian's blazer so hard his knuckles were pink.

All Brian wanted was a drink. Something hot to scald his throat and deafen him to the ungodly creak of his bones and the drone of plangent eulogies.

When he looked over his shoulder (the way his neck creaked made him sick) he laid eyes on Zoe with a veil over her face by the door. 

Brian's head spun. Where was Oz? Did she turn down Lucien's request for help? Was she there to mourn with the rest of them? He couldn't contain his racing mind. He slipped away and followed Zoe into the lobby.

Damien caught his hand. His cheeks were puffy from crying. "I can't do this without you," he croaked.

"I think Zoe has something to tell us," Brian said.

Damien was frozen for a moment before he quietly nodded. They followed Zoe into a family bathroom. Brian locked the door behind them and looked between Amira, Vera, and Zoe.

"Most of you should be able to guess why you're here," Zoe said. "Vicky is alive and we know where she is."

Damien's legs gave out and he sobbed on the floor. Even though Brian knew she was alive, to have heard it with confidence from someone else confounded Brian. He waded in suspense, horror, relief, yearning. It ripped through him and put his hair on end.

"How the hell is she alive?" Vera quivered.

Amira interrupted, "More importantly, where is she? We need to get her back here!"

"It's not that simple," Zoe said. "Vicky is dead. She doesn't have a feasible body to return to, and that's just the beginning. The Aquino has her spirit."

Damien's fist crashed into the floor. It cracked the linoleum as he snarled. "They what?"

"Dahlia must've overheard about the lab robbery. So after Vicky killed someone, Dahlia leaked her identity and schedule so she could be taken out. The Aquino then took advantage of the situation and stole her soul to make her into a weapon against the LaVey. That's the gist of it, at least," Zoe explained.

"Okay, let's get her the fuck out before someone gets hurt!" Vera snapped. "Absolutely none of that matters. Vicky needs us now. We have to save her."

"It's not that simple," Damien grunted.

"Why's that?" Amira asked.

"Vicky isn't like Damien. She doesn't have a corporeal body. Without a body, she may not be able to leave Hell, and seeing as how her body is currently unsalvageable without a brain, I doubt that we can do anything."

Brian's knees couldn't take the weight of his heartache. He sunk to the floor. It was hopeless. Vicky was so close, and yet so far away.

"Take it," Vera said.

"Absolutely not," Zoe snapped. 

"Shut up! I don't care what it takes. Take my soul, my life, my empire. I know you can help us. I know you can fix her body"

"Vera, what the hell are you doing? Do you understand what you're saying?" Amira gawked.

"Can it, Amira!" Vera screamed. "It's my fault Vicky died. I got greedy and careless. I'm going to be responsible for bringing her back now, too."

Brian watched with bated breath. He was a horrible friend to hope Zoe agreed. He needed Vicky there. He needed her back. 

Zoe finally nodded. He sobbed with Damien, from grief and relief, and thanked them for their generosity.

\---

Vicky fell

and fell

and fell. 

She must have fallen for days. The winds were so strong she couldn’t even open her eyes. Breathless, yet unsuffocated, she tumbled, and tumbled, and tumbled into bottomless oblivion, until oblivion caught her in leathery arms.

Vicky peeled her eyes open. Blue, horned creatures looked upon her oddly. Like hyenas.

“Dahlia, Is she alive?”

“What?” Vicky croaked. Her throat was dry, it hurt to speak.

They applauded. It sounded like drums underwater.

“Where am I?” Vicky pleaded, only to be drowned out by the jubilee. She freed herself. When her foot hit the damp stone, it crackled with electricity. She covered her ears, she hobbled and wobbled, before she screamed, “where am I?”

From her elbow and eye, lightning arced into the ground and ceiling. She screamed with the thunder, with the hammering of her head.

“Where am I?” she howled. “Where am I?”

It stormed without rain or clouds. She was in so much pain, she was so confused. Why did they applaud? Who was she, even?

“Enough!”

Vicky was suffocated by a dense fog, petrified and bent in horror. A second later, she collapsed and gasped for air. She was surrounded again. She felt like an animal in a zoo, without compassion or privacy.

“Out, everyone needs to leave! Give the poor thing some space.”

Vicky gazed upon a glistening demon without eyes and spotted ears that dragged on the floor. She almost wanted to dive into their arms like a child hid under their mother’s skirt.

“Berenice, what are you doing?” the enormous woman demon said. “We need to take her to my dad.”

“Look at the poor thing, Dahlia! She’s so overwhelmed. Let’s get her somewhere she can calm down and reorient herself.” Berenice picked Vicky off the floor.

“We can’t! She can reorient after she meets with Dad.”

Vicky looked to Berenice with fear and longing. It seemed like Berenice was Vicky’s only ally amid the petting zoo she was a part of. But even Berenice was helpless against an army.

“I’ll be okay,” Vicky told Berenice. “It’s just a man I’m meeting, right?”

“It’s a king.”

Kings bled, Vicky told herself. Nonetheless, she was afraid.


	8. A storm front cometh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicky is in the hands of the Aquino.
> 
> CWs for unreality, violence, & gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a month late but I'm depressed get off my dick

Vicky was wobbly on her feet like her bones were fragile. Like her legs were ill tailored, or unoiled prosthetics. She braced the wall as Dahlia, the enormous blue woman, led her through the maze-like hallways of the stone castle.

“Do you remember anything? Like your name?” Dahlia asked.

She frowned. “I do. My name is Vicky. Outside of that, there’s nothing.” Well, and she remembered what she looked like. Pretty and lithe, with unmanageable hair and stitches. When she looked down at her arms, though, she saw her stitches were gone and replaced with odd, branching scars like frost, floral and frosty. Vicky was a blank slate otherwise.

Dahlia hummed. They stopped before an enormous carved door. She knocked with the enormous rings.

“Come in!”

King Hugo sounded like a storm. His voice was guttural, rumbled like lightning. It struck Vicky like a hammer to her chest. She bristled like a cornered stray. She wanted to dive behind something and hide.

Nonetheless, Vicky shuffled inside behind Dahlia. From beyond Dahlia’s arm, she saw a stout warrior king hunched over a topographical map. King Hugo and Dahlia looked very much alike: scarred, fair hair. When he smiled at them, there was something wrong. Something… sinister. Hardened.

“Dad, this is Vicky. Vicky, this is my father, King Hugo.”

“Vicky, I’m glad to see your reanimation was successful. We were worried you weren’t intact enough for the ritual. But have a seat,” Hugo said.

Vicky obediently sat. She stared at the mountains of the topographical model like he couldn’t crush her if she couldn’t see him.

“What do you remember, Vicky?”

“Nothing,” she answered. “My name, but I assume you mean something more substantial.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It must be hard, but I should tell you… it’s for the better that you don’t remember.”

She looked up at him. Hugo’s smile was ingenuine. Like her amnesia wasn’t something unfortunate, and it wasn’t relief because she couldn’t remember something awful. It was the smile of someone with secrets. Someone who hid secrets from her specifically. It made Vicky anxious. She was among the enemy. She didn’t know who they were before she died, or what their purpose with her was, but deep down, she knew she was in trouble.

“For the better?” Vicky asked cautiously.

“When you were alive, you were involved with a pair of men who were cruel to you. But you worked despite the mistreatment, you even made enough money that you began to drift away from them. They were displeased by this, so they had you killed.”

Vicky was in disbelief. Angry, even. Someone killed her and there was only a grain of truth to what Hugo told her. How long would she root through it for the truth to be deciphered? Her reaction was visceral. Every breath was another knife in her chest, and it hurt so much, she began to openly and uncontrollably weep. Vicky squeezed her arms and blubbered uselessly. Her nails dug into her arms. Her knuckles turned white, she bled black and thick.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but we brought you back for a reason, Vicky. You deserve justice and closure.”

Shaken and clammy, Vicky asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, we reanimated you for admittedly selfish reasons. Your killers are from our rival clan, the LaVey family. They’ve been the bane of our kingdom for generations. They’ve hurt more than you. Their wanton violence has killed many good men and women, burned our land, our destroyed our supply lines. They’ve pillaged and raped my citizens. They deserve justice like you deserve justice.”

“How do you expect me to help?” Vicky croaked.

“You’re different from other demons brought here for their evil deeds in life. You’ve tasted death more than just once, and once before, you came back from it. Touching death gives people like you powers unheard of. Power like myself and Dahlia have. Do you remember when you woke up?” Vicky nodded in reply to Hugo. “Well, that lightning was your power. You can create storms to strike down like God once created storms, and we need that power to take down the LaVey clan.”

Vicky bit her lip thoughtfully. She didn’t buy Hugo’s story for a moment. His expression set off several red flags, and while Vicky had no concrete reason to disbelieve him, the feeling refused to abate.

But Vicky was in enemy territory. She was afraid to deny Hugo’s request and walk out the door, they were sure to kill her, especially if she was someone key to their plans, and someone once important to the LaVey. The best she could do in her situation was to help them.

“I’m in. But I’m tired right now, I would like to sleep.” And Vicky was. Every muscle of her’s ached as if she was slammed against a wall. 

“Of course. Dahlia, have someone find Berenice so she may take Vicky to her room.”

Dahlia stood and bowed. Minutes later, minutes of silence where Hugo sniffed and muttered unintelligibly to himself, Berenice entered. Vicky flew upright. Berenice and Hugo shared a short exchange before Vicky was taken into the castle’s hallways. The entire place was a labyrinth. Vicky couldn’t even begin to memorize all the hallways.

“How’re you feeling, dear? I’ve never seen anyone reanimated like you,” Berenice said.

“I’m in pain.” Vicky stared at the scars on her arms. “It feels like I was hit by a train or something.” Or lightning crashed onto her head.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Berenice stopped before a heavy, grainy door. She pushed it open and invited Vicky inside. “You’ll be uncomfortable for a couple of days. It’s not an easy process, and unfortunately, we can’t give you anything for the pain. New demons can have awful reactions to herbs we give them.”

Berenice continued, “Anyways, this is your room. You have a private bathroom, and there are clothes for you in the armoire. We’ll have you on a strict schedule so you won’t be in here much.”

Vicky sat on the bed. Her blankets were made of animal fur, wiry and coarse, but the underside was smooth and satiny. “Thank you,” she said absently.

Berenice sat next to Vicky. “I know this is a lot, dear, but I promise you’ll be so much happier here. No one here will ever hurt you.” She took Vicky’s hands into her own. Her hands were pudgy and stout, but inviting, unlike Vicky’s room, and the rest of the castle.

Vicky decided she liked Berenice. She was different from Hugo and Dahlia. Motherly, earnest. Vicky wanted to lay her head on Berenice’s chest and be held like a baby.

“Thank you,” Vicky replied sincerely. “I’m very tired though. I would like to take a bath and go to sleep.”

“Well, alright, then. I’ll come to get you in the morning for breakfast. I’ll see you soon Vicky.”

“Thank you, Berenice.”

Vicky drew a bath. The water was cold and yellow, the towels were coarse. Vicky finally settled under her blanket.

She was so overwhelmed it was hard to think.

\---

Oz watched from the cracks in the stone walls. Hugo lied to Vicky. They isolated her from people who cared about her. If what Hugo said about his village being wartorn, he understood their problem with the LaVey, but it disgusted Oz to his core that they resorted to involving unrelated people.

It made Oz want to cut down the entire castle.

But as much as he wanted to snatch up Vicky, he couldn’t sneak her through the bricks, and he didn’t want to take on an army. His first order of business was to report his findings to Lucien. On an abandoned patch on the roof, Oz drew an ornate circle with red chalk. He pushed his face through the center, and when he opened his eyes, his image was suspended in ice crystals. 

Lucien sat anxiously at the edge of the pool of ice. He addressed Oz with a mere bow.

“I have terrible news,” Oz said, without ceremony. “It is the Aquino who orchestrated this. King Hugo told Vicky it was Damien and Brian who had her killed. They’re going to use her as a weapon against you and your family. She can now harness lightning as well.”

Lucien, like Oz, who only possessed eyes on his face, twisted into obvious hate. Oz knew that kind of hate well: the kind of hate which carried blood feuds on for generations.

He sympathized with the cause, though. Oz lived eons and was still unwise and hateful.

“If there’s something I need to know, Lucien, tell me now.”

“There’s a conspiracy to raise Vicky. Vera Oberlin and your friend Zoe are going through with a ritual of some sort in the next couple of days to resurrect her. I have nothing against their plan but… but I am scared Damien will act rashly in light of recent events,” Lucien explained. “He can be immature. And he’s in a dark period… maybe the darkest of his life. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Oz was particularly disdainful of that line of thought. Oz had his reasons to disagree, but at the end of the day, the secrecy alone was cruel to Damien. He deserved to be in the loop, if not for his loved ones than for preparation for kingship later on.

But that wasn’t Oz’s priority. Oz was in enemy territory, Vicky was trapped, and he needed to focus on that. He asked, “Will Damien interfere here?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll keep an eye on him. In the meantime, if you could obtain battle plans and destroy any intelligence about the LaVey in their possession,” Lucien said.

“I’ll see what I can do. Expect another report in a couple hours.”

With that farewell, Oz’s visage of ice shattered and he returned to the castle roof

His first order of business was Vicky’s allegiance.

\---

Vicky dreamt of red spades and pigskins. It was an odd dream, where they were like people on long, slender legs, but they were missing their faces. 

They held her hands and spun her like a ghost in the wind. They shrouded her like blankets and she was loved. They laid her on warm furs next to a fire. They kissed her and went down and down until her legs squeezed needily. They were so warm, their fingers, their lips. They held her when they took turns, pushed their adoration into her, up into her guts and her neck.

"I love you," she hummed. Even enormous enough to shift her hips apart, she loved them. They became so vivid, red and green, and so beautiful. 

And when Vicky awoke, she was in the middle of nighttime darkness. Was it cicadas that screamed or the oppressive silence her brain had to compensate for? But she was covered in sweat and rivers of tears. Her dream evaporated from memory, only pigskins, and spades left behind for her like a parting gift. Vicky felt stranded and isolated without it. Helpless, she blubbered and futilely tried to dry her face.

Who was she? Why didn’t Hugo’s explanation satisfy her? Why did she want to pick at her brains until she had the answers she wanted?

As Vicky wept, she felt something gooey plop onto her ankle. She froze. Even her misery trapped in her tear ducts seemed to freeze with her. She waited with bated breath for something to happen, a sign for her to run, but even as more oozed onto her bedspread, she was unable to bring herself to escape.

The mattress creaked. She heard a match strike, and then her room was illuminated by the candle next to her bed. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” This new person… gentleman, by the sound of their voice, held the candle between them. His body was black and oily, and his eyes… his eyes reminded Vicky of the moon. Wide and bright. “Do you remember me?”

Slowly, Vicky shook her head. “Do you know me?”

“Yes. My name is Oz. We’re friends,” Oz told her. A lumpy creature pulled itself out of the collar of his black shirt and waved. “That’s Fear. Well… more accurately, one of its incarnations. This one is the fear of death. I have many more within me.”

Oddly enough, the fear of death was adorable. Despite Vicky’s misery, she giggled and shook its tiny hand with a finger. Odder was she trusted Oz more than she trusted Hugo. Her gut was wise.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Vicky.”

Even odder was Oz’s voice came from the small incarnation. “We’re… we’re relieved to see you. Alive, that is.”

“I died. I was shot because of someone I loved dearly.”

Oz’s eyes shrank into saddened crescents. “You’ve been through a lot recently. But you have more friends than you’ve been led to believe, Vicky.”

“Who?” Vicky frowned. “King Hugo and Dahlia?” The pair were off-putting. Hugo was methodical. Calculated. Dahlia was abrasive. Vicky wasn’t sure either of them was her ally, let alone friends. She was a tool of theirs to reach a common goal. Berenice was the only one Vicky felt comfortable around.

“Nay…. No. Neither of them, I’m afraid,” Oz whispered.

Before Oz could continue, there was a knock at Vicky’s door. “Vicky! It’s Berenice! I’m coming in.”

Vicky whipped to Oz. He forced the candle into her hand and began to drip into the ceiling. “I have to go!” he said. “Remember, some of us aren’t what we seem to be!”

Just as Berenice opened the door inside, Oz was gone.

“Oh, you’re already up!” Berenice said cheerfully. “That’s good. Breakfast is ready.” 

Solemnly, Vicky nodded. 

“Are you okay, dear? You look like you ran a marathon.” Berenice sat on Vicky’s bed and placed her cheek against Vicky’s as a mother checked her child for a fever. It made Vicky angry as if it was Berenice who murdered her and lied between her teeth.

Cautiously, Vicky said, “I’m fine. I want to freshen up before I eat, though,” she said. “It was hot in here last night. I was sweating the entire time and I feel gross.”

“That’s fine. Go and bathe, dear. I’ll wait outside for you.”

Vicky showered, followed Berenice to the dining room, and looked unpleased at the milky porridge which was served for breakfast. She held the bowl close to her face so she was able to quickly scoop it down her throat without having to taste it.

“Mornin’. It’s good to see you got an appetite. You’re so scrawny, I thought you’d snap.”

Vicky set her empty bowl on the table. Dahlia dropped her backpack on the floor before she sat. “Dahlia, right? I met you yesterday.” Dahlia and her father, King Hugo. She was sure they were the ones Oz warned her about.

“Yeah. We were talking about you the other night. Dad thinks you’re promising.”

“Thanks,” Vicky reluctantly replied. “This… all of this is still strange for me.”

“You’ve only been here a day. That’s not surprising.”

“Do you know what I’m supposed to be doing today?”

“Training. I know Dad’s got something lined up for you, but I didn’t have time to ask what.” Dahlia finished her porridge then. “Anyways, I gotta go to school. I’ll see you tonight.”

Vicky watched Dahlia leave. Not long after, Berenice brought her to the King’s advisors, James and Robert, dressed like royalty. James and Robert were old and grey-skinned with wiry beards and chipped horns. She and Berenice bowed to them.

“This is Vicky, the subject our King told you about. I trust you’ve been informed to train her by King Hugo.”

James dismissed Berenice. Nervously, she held herself, and inwardly pined for Oz to appear and hold her hand. She felt like she was in danger in their mere presence.

“My name is Vicky. I'm…" Vicky wasn't sure what she was. Lost. Lonely. "Please train me."

James smiled. "No need to beg, dear." James stood, his bones creaked meanwhile. "Come. I'll take you to my private grounds."

Vicky obediently followed. James led her through so many winding turns that Vicky lost track of them. But when James led Vicky into a dark room, lit only by a single candle… Vicky knew she was in trouble.

“I believe experience is the best teacher,” James explained. From his horn, lightning crackled like wafers. “If you want to live, Vicky, you will learn to harness lightning.”

Vicky’s stomach leaped into her throat as a bolt raced to her head.

\---

Damien was mad.

Brian was mad as well. He skipped the denial stage altogether and went straight to anger. Anger that Vicky was taken, anger that she was still living and yet out of reach, anger her resurrection was so damn complicated. After the funeral, after Brian’s conflicted feelings and formality evaporated, he was ultimately mad over every detail of Vicky’s death. While Damien was mad about the same things Brian was, he was mostly mad with his parents, Lucien and Stan. He couldn’t even look at them that morning.

Brian’s nails dug into Damien’s hand when they went to school. It broke Damien’s heart. 

They idled in Brian’s pickup in the parking lot. It was inordinately chilly that day. Damien’s breath was misty and the tips of his nose and his tail ached. He hated the cold, but it was always without Vicky nearby.

“Today’s gonna be a pack of bullshit,” Brian finally muttered.

Damien fumbled with his cigarettes and passed Brian one. “Let’s take it easy today. Hide in the bathrooms or some shit.”

“I just wanna go get her.”

Damien leaned back his chair. It was difficult for him to just mull on where Vicky was too when the Aquino family were just within reach. For Vicky, Damien would have burned down villages and armies without reluctance.

The ire he felt for Dahlia, though…. In the beginning, Damien just thought she was obnoxious, clannish. But if he ever saw her again, Damien swore he would wring her like a mother fucking

“Oh my god,” Brian said as he pointed out the window, “you need to see this.”

It was like Damien was doused in pungent gasoline when he laid eyes on Dahlia. Fire and smoke surrounded his fingertips.

Swiftly, Damien kicked the car door off its hinges and broke into a run.

“Dahlia!” he roared. His shirt and jacket combusted as billowed up his arms like it lit dry kindling. “Dahlia, look at me!”

Dahlia whipped around and swirled with crackling lightning as blue as summer skies. “You lookin’ for a fight now, LaVey?” she howled. 

“You killed the love of my life! I’m going to kill you too!”

Damien propelled himself with fire on his heels. He hopped over a bolt of lightning fired in his direction and then blew a lungful of his fire at Dahlia. She grabbed his pants and swung for his face. Damien’s eye caught the blow, but he brushed it off and used their proximity to burn Dahlia’s face.

They fell to the ground. Damien held her face in both hands and snarled as the smell of burnt hair and fat wafted up to him. She clawed at his hands but stayed steady for Vicky.

And then a film of green wrapped around Damien so forcefully it knocked him off Dahlia and onto the ground. He skidded across a foot of cement, it peeled off the skin off his barren back like grated orange zest. Seconds later, Hope landed at his feet. 

“Get him out of here!” Amira screamed out of the blue. Damien peered past Hope’s legs and saw Dahlia restrained by Amira, Joy, and Faith. 

“Hope, let me go!” Damien screamed. “I have to kill her!”

“I’m going to take him into the forest,” Hope told the trio. “What the hell are we gonna do about her, though?”

“Just get him out of here.” Amira barked.

Hope nodded. She picked up Damien, deceptively strong for her squirrely size, and then ran into the trees.

“Please, Hope, let me go! She killed my girlfriend!” Damien begged.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re making shit hard enough as is.”

“What the hell do you mean? Hope, answer me!” Damien’s squeals were silenced by the green film Hope slapped onto his mouth. Struggle as he may, the film was like a skeleton of rubber bands. It squeezed him until it hurt to breathe. It outraged Damien, but he was stuck. Helpless. Hopeless, like he was when it came to Vicky, and misty-eyed because of his uselessness, Damien squeezed his eyes shut so nothing would escape.

Hope finally stopped deep in the forest and threw Damien into a hollow beneath the roots of an evergreen. He cursed Hope’s name as he slid down and hit his head against the wall of the little hovel. When Hope skid down, she stopped right beside him, and she smacked him across his cheek.

“You idiot! You ruined our plans, and now we’re gonna have to get Vicky out before the Aquino family realizes what happened to Dahlia!” Hope snapped.

Damien tasted metal. Part of him didn’t care, all he wanted to do was shred and burn Dahlia, and Hope was merely an obstacle. No one understood how much she meant to him. No one realized how hard it was to survive each hour without her. “Do you understand how much it hurts being without Vicky? I wanted her forever. And then Dahlia walks in like she didn’t do a thing.”

“There’s no question that the Aquino family needs to be held accountable. But do you value vengeance or getting Vicky back more?” Hope said. “Because of you, we may never see Vicky again.” She fell back against the wall of the dugout. “Damien, you knew there was a plan to bring Vicky back. You knew you needed to keep your cool and keep quiet so we could bring Vicky back without having her killed. If someone saw what you just did, they could be killing her now, Damien, and it would be your fault.”

Ice flooded Damien’s spine. It felt like he was kicked in the chest, and he gasped for air against the magic which cocooned him. It was no wonder his parents refused to tell him the truth. Damien was a loose cannon. 

Not long after, Hope hugged him and rubbed his back. “It’s okay. Brian’s with Amira, and we’ve got spells to disguise where we hid Dahlia. We just need to hang tight until Joy comes to get us, okay? Just get some rest for the time being. God knows what comes after this.”

Damien nodded. But as Hope drifted to sleep, he was restless. Hope’s magic melted away and he laid against the concave wall.

What was to become of Vicky? And the ritual Vera and Zoe performed? And what was to become of Damien’s lovers? The questions spun in his brain like cyclones, it made him twitch with worry.

\---

Electricity pierced Vicky’s breastbone. It felt like a hammer shattered her ribs, and she screamed as she was thrown into a pillar. Blood filled her mouth where her teeth sliced open her tongue. But fatigued and disoriented, Vicky was able to ignore the awful taste. Instead, she crouched and glared at James as blood poured from her lips. Lightning arced from her burns and blood, it clapped against the damp stone.

While Vicky was able to conjure lightning, she was uncontrollable and unpredictable, very unlike James’s lightning.

But while progress was a relief to Vicky, James’s lesson was brutal and Spartan. She was barely able to stand, in and out of consciousness, drained by the lightning strikes. Vicky was so exhausted she didn’t even fear for her life any longer.

Finally, James stopped with a grunt of disapproval. “That’s enough for now. There’s a briefing we need to attend shortly.”

“Briefing?” Vicky asked.

“To fill you in, and to plan our invasion on the LaVey’s kingdom.”

She nodded and followed James.

On the way, Vicky was barely able to keep her eyes open. She braced herself against the wall and tripped over herself as she followed behind him. But Vicky forced her eyes open like glue.

The war room was expansive and barren aside from chairs that surrounded a monochromatic topographical map of Hell. Castles, townships, regions, mountains, rivers were labeled in black ink. Vicky carefully screened the map. The LaVey territory neighbored the Aquino’s, but they were separated by a range of active volcanoes. Vicky wasn’t a tactician, but she found it strange that they were at war nonetheless when they were impeded by extreme natural barriers.

“Welcome, all,” said King Hugo to his audience of eight. His counsel of generals were demons much like himself, blue, horned, adorned in furs. James and Vicky sat across from Robert and a woman more enormous than even Dahlia. Her shoulders alone were the size of basketballs.

“I apologize for the redundancy, but I trust you all know Vicky has recently joined us, so we’ll have a refresher.”

One of Hugo’s servants turned on a projector pointed at a white screen behind Hugo. “The prince is Damien LaVey,” Hugo said as he switched the slide. Damien was handsome, so handsome it took Vicky’s breath away. In their picture, he grinned with impossibly pearly teeth, and his hair was shiny and red like cherries. “He’s not as dangerous as his parents, but he is no stranger to violence. Like Lucien, he is very adept with fire magic.”

When Hugo switched to the following slide, it felt like Vicky was hit by a freight train. “Next is a lesser player, Brian Yu.” 

Hugo’s voice became distant. Brian decayed like a fresh corpse, but he smiled at a woman in the picture with him, his arm slung over her shoulders, and Vicky knew that woman well. That woman was her, stitched and grinning, with her wild hair pulled over her shoulder.

And pieces came back to her. Chaotic, without pattern, but pieces Vicky managed to fit together.

They loved her. They were her best friends, and they loved her despite her tainted body and her broken brain. They loved her so much, when she saw Eugene, they stayed with her that night and told her how much she was valued.

In the last seconds before she died, they were proud because she was successful.

Vicky had the knowledge she needed that Hugo lied to her. But her worst suspicions were confirmed. She was in enemy territory, and unless she was very careful, she would die. She settled in her chair and returned her attention to Hugo's presentation.

A picture of a yellow-eyed creature in a hood came onto the screen. “This is King Lucien LaVey. He is our family’s mortal enemy. He has led the LaVey’s effort to destroy our legacy and land since his inception. He is unusually talented with magic.” Hugo flipped to the next slide, a picture of a staff topped with a fiery bird skull. “Since his magic proves to be our greatest obstacle, we will first need to destroy this staff.”

“Well, where is his staff kept?” asked the enormous woman.

“An excellent question, General Quilo. It's with him at all times. Thus, we’ll need a stealth party to invade their home and destroy it. More on that later,” Hugo explained.

“This is our target, however.” A picture of another enormous, blue demon in furs showed. “His name is Stan… Stan Aquino. He is my brother.”

\---

Oz should have known that was the case. Nonetheless, he hissed to himself. Their plans were damned, and he was angry, angry enough he drew on stone and slammed his face through the circle and glared upon Lucien’s shape.

“Don’t you think it was important to mention that Hugo and Stan are brothers?” he asked.

Lucien said hoarsely, sadly, “Stan asked me to not share that with you. Our families have been genocidal for generations, and he doesn’t want anything to do with it.”

“But Hugo does.” 

“We didn’t know what else to do, Oz. Hugo refused to listen to reason. We didn’t want to raise our son with our families when our efforts to compromise with them were for naught. I understand you’re angry, Oz, but we tried, and we failed.”

“And Vicky had to pay for it,” Oz said, disgusted. He understood, but the secrecy was loathsome. Lucien hung his head.

“There is unfortunate news,” Lucien said, “we have to get Vicky tonight. Damien attacked Dahlia for her role in Vicky’s murder. Amira and some of her friends have Dahlia in custody, but her absence will be noticed, and we will be rightfully blamed. We fear Hugo might hurt Vicky to get back at us.”

“I’ll need help getting her out. The guards pose a threat. I can’t take them on by myself,” Oz said.

“We’ll arrange a raid. But it needs to be now, Oz.”

Oz nodded. “Be swift. Vicky’s life is in danger yet again thanks to you two.”

\---

Vicky’s eyes bugged out of her head. Their feud made sense. Her death made sense. Dahlia heard about the robbery and passed on the message to her father, and they passed on the message to the survivors. She was the head of betrayal and blood feuds, and unless she wanted all of her loved ones to die, Vicky had to do something.

But what was she supposed to do? In a room full of generals, she was a novice. They were sure to break every bone in her body did she dare move.

Thankfully, Vicky had allies. 

Oz fell onto the table like water poured into a glass. The counsel stared in confusion until it was too late.

Vicky dove under the table as the slaughter began. Lightning crashed, bones crunched, blood splattered on the walls.

James, covered in blood and viscera, with his eyes gouged out, joined her under the table. He growled and grabbed for her. Vicky was quick to react. With a swipe of her crooked fingers, she electrocuted him. Her lightning fried his gored face like batter. 

She kicked James out of the way. Quilo and Hugo still lived, but Oz grabbed her and they ran for their lives. Vicky honestly, to her very core, was relieved to see Oz, because while she didn’t remember much about him, she remembered he was her ally and friend without question. She held his hand and smiled.

“I want the truth,” she said, "when we're out of the woods."

“Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

She nodded as they ran through corridor after corridor. They nearly barrelled into Berenice around a corner.

Oz cursed. Bewildered, Berenice asked, “Vicky, who is this?”

Vicky slammed her eyes shut just as fear ripped out of Oz's chest. They ran, and Vicky didn’t open her eyes until after she stumbled over a pair of disembodied calves. Berenice was her only friend among the Aquino, but Vicky was overwhelmed by the chase and carnage to grieve Berenice, and she understood the necessity to silence witnesses. 

The alarm blared. Surely, it was the doing of Quilo or Hugo. The blood drained from Vicky's face. The guards were sure to swarm.

“We need to find a window! I don’t know where the entrance is!” Vicky said.

“Good idea, Vicky.” Oz burst through a door to no window avail. They kicked down door after door for escape until they were surrounded.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt any of you,” Oz said, “but you need to let us through.”

Vicky’s breath picked up. She felt lightheaded. But they needed to dispatch those guards, or convince them to let them through.

She summoned her lightning. It manifested from her knee and hairline. But it was weak like static. When Vicky tried again, her legs gave, and she fell into ash.


	9. This is only the beginning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicky returns, but the fight isn't over.
> 
> CWs for gore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this yesterday but shit gets in the way. Hopefully, I'll be back on schedule next week.

Vicky felt like violent static. Like glass and ash swirled like a storm in a skin sack. They congregated into white-hot bone and boiled viscera, and when she finally opened her hot eyes and gasped for air in new lungs, she gagged on rot and mucus lodged in her chest.

She flung herself off the side of her bed and coughed up bits and pieces of insides onto the pristine floor so forcefully it made her entire back hurt.

“Get it all out,” Vera cooed. She rubbed Vicky’s back.

“Water!” Vicky pleaded. Zoe, ice water in hand, cupped Vicky’s chin and poured it down her throat. Vicky spewed it onto the floor seconds later. She snatched the cup out of Zoe’s hold and downed the remainder in only a couple of swallows.

Finally, Vicky, breathless curled up on the mattress, pillows forgone, and let her eyes fall shut.

“Vicky?” Vera whispered.

“I’m tired,” she said. “Oz and I were in a fight and---” her eyes flew open. She whipped upright and screamed, “Oz! He’s in trouble!”

Before Vicky ripped IVs out of her arms, Vera forced her down onto her pillows. “Lay down. We’ll take care of Oz, alright?”

“I’ll watch her. Go make some calls,” Zoe said.

Vera left. Vicky tearfully clutched her chest. She had no idea what happened. One second, she was on a murder spree to escape the Aquino castle, and the next she was ash, and then she was in a pristine laboratory. Oz was abandoned and overwhelmed.

“I don’t… this is a lot,” Vicky said. She wiped her nose on her hand. Everything was congested and runny. It was weird being back in a body.

“I know, but we’re glad you’re back. Just focus on yourself for the time being.”

“I don’t want to. I want this to make sense. I want to see Brian and Damien.”

“You’ll see them soon. Vera’s calling backup for Oz, and she’s going to get Brian over here. Damien will be here as soon as we make sure Oz is okay.”

Vicky, although frustrated by her uselessness and worry, understood there wasn’t much she was able to do for the time being but wait until everyone was back home

\---

Damien was brought to attention when someone or something slid into their dirt cave. He was relieved that Joy finally came for them. He kicked Hope’s foot and she was startled awake. 

"Fuck," Hope mumbled groggily.

As they crawled into the open, Damien eagerly asked, “Is Vicky back?” It was such an awful ordeal. He was emotionally drained. If he wasn't able to attain his vengeance, all he wanted was Vicky back in his arms.

“Vera left me with that impression. But all I know is that Oz needs our help in the Aquino castle,” Joy answered.

He nodded. It was good enough that Damien was finally able to knock together some Aquino heads, at least until he was able to see Vicky. “I can get us to the castle,” Damien said, and then pulled a knife from his waistband. “I need you guys to clear a space for me.”

Damien sliced open his palm and sucked his blood into his cheeks as Hope and Joy helped clear away forest debris. It was cleaned soon enough. He motioned for them to step back, and then he cupped his hands around his mouth and sprayed blood through his lips. With his fingers covered in blood, he drew the name of the Aquino’s castle in the dirt, and then he rubbed his hands together and hissed out a spell from his grimy mouth. 

His blood, spotted in the dirt, crept into a web and then began to fluoresce. The spell was completed.

“I’m sure you guys dive into portals all the time, but this will be different.” He held both their hands. Although it was awkward for Damien to touch anyone that wasn't his closest confidant or fuck buddy, there were more pressing matters. Oz needed his and the Coven's help, and if they were lost in the portal, Oz was sure to be fucked over. “Don’t let go of me no matter what.”

The dove into the portal like cannonballs. The walls were jagged and tight. They were rattled around like dice, slammed into each other and scraped by sharp obstacles. His back was sliced by something particularly sharp.

Despite the discomfort, Damien’s adrenaline was through the roof. He itched to rake his fingers through their entrails, to stomp their skulls into the stone floors, to cook them and tear them limb from limb like a rotisserie chicken. He itched to lather himself in their blood like a true heathen.

The trio landed on their feet. Damien stumbled and nearly collided with his father Lucien.

“Shit, sorry!”

“No worries,” Lucien said. He was feet away from Oz who was neck-deep in Aquino combatants. “We’re fine here! Stan ran off, find him!”

“Hope, stay with them,” Joy said, “I’m going with Damien.”

Hope nodded. She created a beam of light over their heads. Joy and Damien took off on the path over the chaos between Oz and the soldiers.

“How do we even find Stan?” Joy asked. Damien wasn’t sure either. It was impossible to scour the entire castle in a reasonable amount of time. Damien didn’t know any other magic tricks to help them, either.

“We’ll have to follow noise or something,” Damien replied. It was the best of a bad situation.

Thankfully, fate intervened. A LaVey soldier flew through a pair of heavy, ornate doors. Joy grabbed Damien by his sides and pulled him out of the way before he was decapitated by debris. He was too worried to be scared. They peered into the throne room, where Stan and Hugo alongside their armies. 

Damien wasn’t the keenest, but he was sure a fool could have seen his father was in trouble. His face poured blood and his leg was lamed.

“Keep quiet, I’m going to make an opening for you,” Joy told him.

They hid behind the frame. Joy conjured an enormous rod tapered off to a serrated point.

“Hugo!” Joy screamed. Taken off guard, Hugo faltered, having been distracted by joy, and then she tossed it like a javelin and it whistled through the air. Damien chased it, fists alight. He sidestepped his father Hugo and slammed his hand into Hugo’s nose. It crunched and roasted with smoke and a metallic odor.

With a swift kick from Hugo, Damien was knocked off Hugo. Stan caught Damien by his wrist and pulled him out of the way of spearpoint from one of Hugo’s lackeys. 

It was far too chaotic for them to feasibly defeat Hugo.

“I’ll take care of him! You take care of his army!” Stan barked.

“Damien, I have an idea, but I’ll need your help,” Joy said. She grabbed an Aquino guard, and although visibly disgusted by it, she stabbed them in their neck with a prismatic dagger, and a second later, she dragged them onto the floor where they crouched. She drew with charcoal on the bloodied knife and then shoved it into his hands.

"I need you to stab this into the ground and light it on fire. It'll roast all the Aquino in this room," Joy told him.

Damien didn't need to be told twice. Dutifully and vindictively, he lit it on fire, and then they were showered by a geyser of hot and feathery fire. Joy flung her open hand out without flourish and cast a shield over Stan's head to protect him from the flames.

Seconds later, the fire dissipated and was replaced by the smell of roasted flesh and burnt hair. Damien flew to his feet and charged Hugo.

But before Damien was able to dispatch Hugo, there was a cacophonous snap, and Damien watched blood spray from Stan’s chest.

\---

Oz wasn’t upset often. Oz wasn’t mad often either. But things made a turn for the worse and were he to be completely frank, he was irate. Vicky had turned to ash, and he was up to his motherfucking chin in knives and spears. Oz had survived worse but it still pissed him off. 

“Lucien!” he screamed, “Just fucking roast these sons of bitchs already!”

Lucien hissed, but from his staff came the smoke and flames. Oz slammed his eyes shut, but fear overpowered the atmosphere, even more potently than the heat of the fire. Fear burst into a new and gluttonous life from the sensation. In the fire, where the Aquino soldiers were roasted and defenseless, Fear scooped them into his bulbous jaw and swallowed them in pieces.

The fire dissipated and the bloodbath ended. Oz, although warm and still angry, was finally alleviated of the pressure of battle, and he pried knives and spears out of his body.

There were other battles to finish, however. But Oz promised himself as soon as the whole ordeal was over, he would spend the day in bed and binge anime to his heart’s content. Preferably with Zoe in tow, but he wasn’t picky.

Fear, enormous and swollen, pressed its snout against Oz’s cheek. “More,” it growled. Oz shoved it aside as Lucien and Hope rushed down to meet him.

“We need to find the rest of the party,” Hope said with her nose pinched between her fingers. In her other hand, she loosely held a swinging pendulum. “This is a kind of magic divinator. It’ll help us find Joy. Hopefully, Stan and Damien haven’t been separated from her.”

He and Lucien ran behind Hope through hallways and a maze of bodies and fire. In other circumstances, Oz was sure to have been disgusted by the carnage. But he only felt hate for the ruthless Aquino and the secretive LaVey, and exhaustion from the taxing past days. He went straight from sleepless nights and a feverish investigation, to captivity and torture, to find his friends in shambles, and finally a covert operation that ended in a bloodbath. Everything was minute and far away.

Hope guided them into the destroyed throne room. If Oz had a heart, it would have stopped.

Stan’s chest gaped. He was pale and limp. Joy was crouched over him, she wailed at the top of her lungs as she shrouded him in glittery reparation magic, and Damien was on the defensive against Hugo and the general woman Quilo.

Oz ran to Damien and Fear reared its ugly head. It snapped at Quilo and Hugo fruitlessly. Damien used it as a springboard to tackle Quilo and slam his fists into her face. 

“You bitch! You killed my dad! You fucking bitch!”

Oz cursed and slammed his body into Hugo before the Aquino king reached Damien. Fear finally took an arm into its mouth and ripped it off. But before Oz was able to devour him entirely, he vanished.

His head whipped to Quilo. Her fist covered a magic circle, and Oz immediately concluded she used magic to transport him out of the castle and god knew where else. 

Oz stormed over to her and bludgeoned her with Fear’s big head. “Where is he?” he boomed.

Quilo cackled. “You’re like sad kittens.” She mimicked a kitten with a high-pitched meow.

Damien kicked her head. “I’m going to kill you, you fucking cunt! I’m going to kill all of you!” He slammed his fiery fists into her head, and her skin boiled. Quilo shrieked something ungodly.

He ripped Damien off Quilo and Fear scooped her into its maw with the promise of safekeeping. It was hungry, but sometimes it saved snacks. They needed to interrogate Quilo late to obtain Hugo’s location, but neither he or Damien were in the mindset to deal with her. “Your father is dying,” Oz reminded Damien, “we’ll deal with her later.”

For a split second, Damien bristled but soon regained rationality.

Oz and Damien jogged over to Stan. He winced. Stan’s heart was cleanly ripped out. Oz was able to see straight to the floor. Strangely enough, Stan held on, with ragged, shallow breaths, as blood and drool coated his cheeks.

They had lost more than enough people.

Ordinarily, Oz didn’t meddle in mortal matters like death. But Brian, and all of Oz’s friends, had been through far too much in such a short amount of time.

Oz liquified. From the walls of darkness, he picked off foamy chunks and carefully sculpted it into a heart for Stan. When he returned, he pulled the Coven and Lucien off Stan and pressed his creation into Stan’s chest. It leeched onto his torn veins. It pumped blood. It expanded to fill the cavity. Color returned to Stan’s face.

His audience was stunned into silence. He stepped back and rolled his shoulders. 

“This is only a temporary fix. He needs medical attention as soon as possible,” Oz explained. The witches nodded.

\---

Vicky waited impatiently in her bed, she strained her ears to pick up on any sound of movement, her stiff legs itched to pace in wait. Zoe told her, again and again, Brian and Damien were on their way. It felt like an eternity. It made her anxious. It made her want to cry.

Her fingers curled into her blankets. Just then, she heard the clap of sneakers against cement, and then the whir of the automatic glass door. Her eyes widened to see Brian and Damien struggle to pull themselves inside before the door was even open. Vicky squealed when they threw themselves into her.

Vicky's chest tightened upon the mere sight of them. She burst into tears and folded herself over them. Their visage was miraculous in every way.

Brian pushed her against the headboard and wrapped his arms around her like a tight metal coil. She was smothered but pressed kisses on his cheek. Damien's legs were laid across her lap as he curled himself against her. Vicky had never seen him cry before, but he wept inconsolably against her long hair. 

It was a storm of emotion. Heartache, love, relief, grief. Vicky's fingers dug into their flesh from the energy.

"I missed," Vicky had to pause to blubber and wipe her face, "I missed you guys. I felt so incomplete. I was- I was scared and miserable." She held them tightly. "I don't ever want to leave you again." In many ways, they were her only family. Without them, she only had friends and classmates.

"It wasn't your fault," Brian told her, "It wasn't your fault, Vicky."

Although Vicky was overwhelmed by emotion, the cogs in her head turned and she pieced together odd bits and pieces. Her head spun with a maelstrom of questions.

"Wait, where is everyone? Your dads? And Oz? And Damien, you're covered in blood. What happened?" Her chest was so tight. Vicky couldn't breathe! "Everything is… this is all so much."

Brian hushed her. "It's okay. We'll all be caught up soon, at least according to Amira," he assured her, "let's just enjoy this."

Vicky tasted something foul. There was something dreadfully wrong. She wanted to relish in her reunion, but the ill feelings nagged her relentlessly.

Still, for Brian and Damien, she could keep those worries to herself. She held them close instead.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked.

"I wasn't in any fight," Brian said. 

"I'm okay. I mean, I ran into people a couple of times, but I was mostly the one doling out damage," Damien followed. "I'm just… I'm so glad you're back, Vicky. It's been a nightmare without you."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't careful enough."

"No. It's not your fault," Damien and Brian insisted. "We're okay now. That's all that matters."

They were right. It took a great deal off of Vicky's shoulders, and she sincerely smiled.

\---

Stan gawked at his chest. His injury was supposed to have completely decimated his chest cavity but all was well. Oz was not subjectable to mortal laws.

He nodded at Oz and Oz nodded back. He felt good about himself. "Thank you," Stan said. "I would've died if you weren't there."

"I'm just glad you're alright."

"Oz, our family owes you our lives. You've helped us save our son's lover, you've saved my husband." Lucien laid his hand over Stan's. It was a stark difference from the image of the stone-hearted, begrudged king Oz spoke with that morning. "You've saved us."

Oz wished he was as celebratory as mortals. But with Hugo at large, and Stan's brush with death, and everything else that happened, Oz couldn't relax, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He knew Zoe felt the same way. She was just better at disguising it. Perhaps she lived in the moment better than he.

"Honestly, we're just glad everyone made it out alive," she said. Oz nodded.

"Rest up. I'll gather everyone for the briefing. The sooner we get everyone on the same page, the safer we'll be, and the sooner we can rest," he said. The kings agreed with a nod of their heads.

\---

Brian held Vicky's hand as a doctor with three eyes checked her vitals. Damien had gone to freshen up and change. When the glass door slid open, Vicky saw Oz enter.

She smiled. "Hi," she said. "It's good to see you. I'm so glad you're okay." And she was. She felt horrible that he was left amid the enemy.

"We're just about done here," said the doctor.

The doctor finished Vicky's checkup. She closed her robe and sat on the edge of her bed. "Thank you for everything," she said earnestly. "I owe you my life, Oz." Without him, Vicky was sure she wouldn't have been able to escape. She would've been a mess over her bizarre emotions and mismatched memories.

"Nonsense. I was just taking care of my friends." Oz and his tiny incarnations smiled. "You look well for someone who's been bounced back and forth between worlds."

"I'm just a little stiff. I was thirsty when I first woke up, but I'm a lot better now."

"Are you well enough for a meeting to catch everyone up on what's happened?"

Vicky, without hesitation, said, "Yes. I want answers. I want this all to make sense. I'm trying to put together all these pieces but I can't even figure out half of what I don't know."

"I agree. I'd like to be filled in as well," Brian said.

Brian helped Vicky onto her feet and they were taken to Stan's room. Everyone was already gathered, even Damien, clean and dressed in scrubs. She and Brian sat with him. It was severe in that room, with everyone gathered. Vicky wanted to go and hug Stan and Lucien, but the tension was so thick, it was like stones were placed in her lap.

"I haven't slept in ages, so I'm going to make this as quick as possible," Vera said. "This began when I wanted to expand mine and Vicky's robbery pool. I heard about this den where there were hundreds of thousands in cash stashed away. But somewhere along the planning stages, the Aquino family, specifically Dahlia, heard about our plan, and also heard we had killed someone during the robbery, so they leaked our information to the gang we robbed and Vicky was shot at school."

Vicky picked it up. "King Hugo Aquino revealed he had a couple uses for me. Firstly, since that wasn't the first time I had died, I was somehow able to conjure lightning like he and his family. Secondly, since I'm very precious to the LaVey family thanks to my romantic status with Damien, I could be used as a weapon against them to throw them off guard. The whole thing was a revenge scheme. But because of my head injury, I didn't know any of that."

"Fucking wait," Amira hissed, "revenge scheme? For what?"

"I assume it's because we're neighboring kingdoms. The kingdoms are always land grabbing. And have you seen Dahlia? I think she gets her jolly from conquering," Damien replied.

Vicky frowned. Had Stan and Lucien not told him? "No… that's not it," she replied.

"Vicky's right," Oz said. He turned his gaze to the LaVey kings. "Are you going to come forward or am I going to have to out you?"

Damien's brow furrowed quizzically. "Out him? They're already out of the closet. Oz, they're married."

"No… not that," Stan tumbled shamefully. "I should have told you this sooner, Damien, I should have told everyone but… I wanted to protect you."

"From what?" Damien said.

"Hugo and I are brothers. I used to lead the Aquino clan army before I deserted to marry Lucien," Stan said. Vicky saw the color and confusion drain from Damien's face. It was replaced with hurt.

"What the hell?" he squawked. "I… I can't wrap my head around why you'd hide this from me. I can't… I can't believe this! My girlfriend died and my best friend is a vegetable because you're fighting with your family, and you didn't bother to tell me any of this?" His fist crashed into the glass. "You didn't even let me fucking know she was alive! I heard it from Oz! You two are the fucking worst!"

Vicky went cold. "What?" She pawed at Damien as he trembled with rage. "What happened to Scott?" She was in his arms when she was shot, did that mean he was hit too?

"You guys were hugging it out or some shit when you were killed, Vicky," Vera coolly explained.

"Aye," Stan said. "My family was terrible, even by demonic standards. They would spout nonsense about dominating this world with the sinners we were duty-bound to punish for their transgressions. They were power-hungry, and it was horrible. I couldn't live with it anymore, so I deserted, and I joined Lucien's mission to create a kingdom where the victims up above could have retribution in the next life."

"But I didn't want to involve you in any way with my family, Damien. They're like toxic waste. Their extremism leeches into you. But it was all for not. I was a fool to think I could protect you with secrecy alone, not while my brother is in power. And I am sorry for that."

Damien’s nostrils flared. He bared his teeth. His eyes swam like magma. “You killed Vicky and Scott, and all you can say is you’re sorry?”

Vicky launched to her feet and positioned herself between Damien and Stan. “I will be the judge of whose fault my death was," she said as she trembled. "But your fathers love you. They've done everything for you. We've lost so much. We've lost… we've lost our good friend, and they've only given you love. We need them, Damien. You need them."

Damien snarled. She saw the hurt in his eyes, the confusion. As much as it hurt to see, they needed to stay calm.

“Vicky’s right. What’s important now is briefing everyone. We need to put our vendettas aside,” Amira said. “The fact of it is, we’re all involved in this now. Hugo will be after all of us because of it.”

Joy groaned. "Geez, this is a headache. My question is, why Vicky? Why not Brian? He's a way more imposing than Vicky."

"Because he lives a low-risk lifestyle compared to Vicky. Because of Vicky's criminal activity, it'd be easier to have her murdered on the DL without it being connected to them, at least they surmised," Lucien explained.

"That makes sense," Hope mumbled.

"I guess it's my turn," Zoe said. "Oz had premonitions about Vicky's death a couple of days before shit hit the fan. While we were trying to figure this shit out, Dahlia captured us and stuck us with some magic shit so we couldn't interfere in Vicky's execution and Dahlia explained everything. We managed to escape but… we were too late to save Vicky. But since we knew where she was, we got together with Lucien to get her back before shit hit the fan. But Lucien wanted to keep it on the DL because he was afraid Damien would get hurt, so we went to the funeral where we filled in Brian, Damien, Amira, and Vera. We told them where Vicky was and that bringing her back was virtually impossible since a vital part of her body was destroyed. But that's where Vera saved the day. I'm sure many of you understand I'm not a normal monster. I'm kind of godly, and I can trade things out given a good deal. Vera traded out about a decade of her life and it was enough for me to fix up Vicky to what you see now."

Vicky had mixed feelings about Vera's sacrifice. In Vera's position, Vicky would have done the same thing. She was sure Vera was plagued by guilt and felt like it was how she could repent. But a decade was a long time. Vicky wasn't worth a decade.

"After the funeral, I went to Hell to gather intel and secure Vicky," Oz said. "I uncovered their plot as well, and that Hugo and Stan are brothers during a meeting between Hugo and his generals. After I learned this, I met with Lucien briefly, was told there was a change of plans, and then massacred all but one of the generals and Hugo himself. We presently have the surviving general in custody but… there are complications. She seems to have transported Hugo elsewhere. I understand LaVey soldiers are in full force looking for him, but I'm going to interrogate her nonetheless. It seems more efficient."

"Fucking hell," Amira cursed, "so he's at large? What about his fucking army? Are any of us safe?"

"No," Stan immediately replied. "Every one of us in this room is in grave danger. It's why we're briefing everyone on what has recently transpired. We'll all be a lot safer if we're on the same page."

Amira growled. "... anyways. While Oz and Vicky were in Hell, Damien flipped his shit when he saw Dahlia. He accused her, rightfully so, that she took Vicky from him. We couldn't let her go back and tell him that we were onto them, so we had to detain her. She's not dead, but I can tell you she's not talking any time soon. I wanted to cut off her tongue and her fingers, but Faith and Joy managed to curse her into silence. We took Brian with us for safekeeping."

Damien sighed. "Because I got into a fight, Hope dragged me out into the forest until Joy came to get us. The ritual worked, but Oz was trying to get Vicky out at the same time, and he ended up buried in guards, so we had to bail him out. But my dad Stan ran off to take on Hugo."

"I was… I was severely wounded by the remaining general. I'm lucky to be here now," Stan said. "And here we are now, I guess."

"Well, what now? Do we look for Hugo?" Vera asked.

"No. Too obvious," Lucien said.

Joy said, "I agree. This guy fights dirty. If we wanna find him, we gotta draw him out and make him feel like he's the one in control. Like a hunter. We should go about our normal routines. We can dispatch him when he turns up."

It was a grim and nerve-wracking plan, but Vicky craved even the semblance of normalcy. Their round table agreed with a collective nod and Vicky looked forward to being able to live normally.


End file.
